


The Botanical Armistice

by doodlegirll



Series: For empires [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Carlos's dad is a bit prickly, Copious amounts of consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Falling In Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Prince!Carlos, Prince!Cecil, Royalty, Shameless Smut, but at least his Corgis are cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlegirll/pseuds/doodlegirll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The preparations for the signing of the peace treaty between Noctis and Vail has officially begun, and Prince Carlos finds himself becoming more and more fond of Prince Cecil as time goes by. </p><p>Convincing his father, the King of Vail, however, is going to be much more difficult than he anticipated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of "For empires"! 
> 
> This one is actually longer than "The Librarius Concession," so I've decided to divvy it up into chapters. Honestly, I wrote this as sort of a hodgepodge (mostly on my iPhone, interestingly enough) so I found that it seems to flow better plot-wise if I divide it into chapters, as opposed to letting it all flow as one long fic. It's set over the course of a week, as well, which also aided in my decision to make it a chapter fic. 
> 
> HUGE shout out to Mixxy, who helped me pound out little details and bounced ideas around with me into the wee hours of the night! 
> 
> Also, the Corgis are important. That's all I'm going to tell you.

_BANG!_

The sound of his bedroom door being rapped upon startled the young Prince of Vail out of the reverie that came with becoming engrossed in a novel. He shot up out of his plush and well-worn chair, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins like fire, shooting down his spine like knives. He abandoned the book on the floor where it fell, and rushed to the door, yanking it open in one fluid movement.

Outside in the hallway stood one of the palace guards, a panicked and urgent expression on his face.

“Prince Carlos!” He said, dipping his head in a gesture of a bow, heaving for breath. “You must come with me! Quickly!”

“What is it?” Carlos asked, his heart pounding in his chest as he hastily followed the guard down the hallway. “What has happened? Is my father well? Has ill word come of his voyage?”

“No, your majesty.” The guard said, shaking his head as they rounded the corner. “No word has yet come of your father’s travels. We have upon us a breach in security.”

“How so?” Carlos swallowed. He hadn’t even grabbed his sword.

“An intruder,” The guard explained vaguely. “I am uncertain what he hoped to gain, walking into our kingdom unaided! Perhaps he hoped to go undetected, so that he could sneak his way into the castle, and from there, do you harm.”

“I don’t understand!” Carlos said as the guard led them towards the end of the hall, to the thick wooden door that Carlos knew led downwards below the earth, into the musty, and uninhabitable dungeons. “What are you talking about?!”

The guard stopped. He lowered his voice.

“We have captured the _Prince of Noctis_ on our lands.” He said, and Carlos could hear the edge of excitement in his voice.

Carlos froze. The adrenaline that had brought him to the fighting field suddenly _stopped_ , and he found himself unable to breath.

“Noctis?” He managed to keep his voice level and clear of any deviant emotions, though, at that moment, he was unsure, exactly, how.

“Yes, your majesty. We caught him not an hour ago, sneaking across the border. He was unaided, and without body guards. In the clarity of the day, I might add! Perhaps he is indeed as incompetent as your father has always claimed him to be. Certainly not worthy to run a kingdom, if he is foolish enough to try and breach our borders and murder our prince in broad daylight!”

Carlos shook his head. “I thank you for your diligent service,” he said to the guard. “And your affirmative action, but I must ask, has he been harmed?”

“He put up a struggle,” the guard confirmed. “He insisted that he meant no harm, that he came in peace, but what trust can be put into an agent of his despicable kingdom, but especially lies that come from the _Prince,_ of all people?!”

Carlos waved a hand. “Yes, but has he been harmed?”

“No more than a few bruises,” the guard said. “He may have suffered a harsh blow or two in the struggle to subdue him, but we left him alive. We believe it is your place to strike the final blow.”

Carlos nodded, some of the anxiety boiling in his stomach lessening slightly. He gathered himself, and laid a hand on the guard’s shoulder.

“You have done your duty well in apprehending this enemy,” he said. “However, I believe that I can take this from here without further intervention.”

“But, your majesty!” The guard protested. “He is your sworn enemy! He has been raised to kill you, to usurp your throne and cast our kingdom into the hands of Noctis! Surely you do not wish to proceed unaided?!”

“I assure you, I am well aware of the gravity of the situation,” Carlos assured him, trying to keep himself from betraying the air of calm and collectiveness he was projecting. “Allow me to see to this…prisoner myself. If I require backup, I shall call for you.”

The guard opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it, and nodded.

“Yes, your majesty.” He said, bowing again. “Percy, Lukas! The Prince wishes to interrogate the prisoner himself!”

Two other guards came into view from around the corner, their hands on their swords, obviously still reeling from the excitement of having the Prince of Noctis within their grasps. They were grinning, ear to ear, as they approached, and for a moment, Carlos was filled with the dread that they had caused his…friend more harm than he had previously anticipated.

“He’s all yours, your majesty.” The one called Lukas said, bowing. “May I suggest making him suffer?”

“I will see to it that he knows exactly the crime he has committed,” Carlos promised, nodding at his guards. “Go. I will call if I require it.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The three guards chorused in unison, and hastily made their way up the stairs. Carlos watched them go, before he spun around on his heel and made his way around the corner, towards the end of the hall. He quickly realized he did not know in which cell they had put Cecil, but it did not take him long to find the slightly ajar door.

He stepped inside the torch-lit cell, and shook his head as he studied the shackled figure before him. Cecil had not heard him enter, for his head was still hung in defeat, though Carlos could see the scowl that graced his face even from his place in the doorframe. His wrists were encased in manacles dangling from the rafters of the dungeon ceiling, his hands formed into routed fists. Similar apparatuses adorned his ankles, which had been divested of his sandals, which lay in the corner of the room. His tunic was dirty and torn, and sagged off of his left shoulder just enough to where Carlos could see the tattoo of the Eye of Noctis over Cecil’s heart. There were, indeed, bruises beginning to form on Cecil’s right cheekbone, and his blond hair was in complete disarray, as though it had been grabbed and yanked at, and not at all in a gentle manner.

Carlos walked forward slowly, silently, and reached out a tentative hand towards the other man who, only a month before, had been writhing below him on the floor of a silent and empty library, that velveteen voice keening with pleasure, his hands buried in Carlos’s hair. Carlos dipped his fingers below the other man’s chin and raised his scowling face towards his, not hesitating to lean forward and brush his lips against those of the captive prince.

“Do you know of the punishments that befall those that trespass upon our land?” He whispered as he pulled away, nipping at Cecil’s lower lip. “I assure you, they are effective in getting the point across.”

Cecil made a noise at the back of his throat that was a mixture of pleasure and disdain.

“Pray tell,” he said, lowly, and Carlos shivered as the voice that had invaded his dreams for the past month soared through him like fine wine. “Do most of your prisoners receive such a welcome?”

“Hmmm, not most.” Carlos said, brushing his lips against the other’s again. “You, however, will receive a much more…intimate interrogation.”

He pulled away and peered at Cecil, but the Prince of Noctis was still glaring.

“Carlos,” he said. “While I am very pleased to see you, too, I am in a fair amount of exasperation at the moment.”

Carlos ran his thumb over the forming bruise on Cecil’s cheek. “The guards told me that you struggled, and that they had a hard time subduing you.” He informed the other prince, smirking slightly. “But are you hurt?”

Cecil shook his head. “Nothing that will not heal quickly,” he said. “However, there _is_ the matter to attend to involving my immediate treatment upon entering Vail. I came unescorted so as to not provoke such a response as panic, and yet, your guards refused to listen when I tried to explain that I was here to meet with you!”

“They were only doing their job, Cecil.” Carlos said, shaking his head. “As I’m sure your guards would have done had it been me entering Noctis and not you entering Vail.”

Cecil huffed. “They _tore_ my favorite tunic, Carlos.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Carlos smirked as he bent his head and mouthed at Cecil’s exposed collarbone. “I quite like the view.”

Cecil, bless him, was obviously trying so hard to be angry with him, but the low moans that rumbled through the men’s throat as Carlos sucked on his jugular told Carlos that he was failing in his attempt.

“Carlos, please,” He said. “My ankles hurt.”

“Oh!” Carlos pulled back immediately. “Right. I apologize. Hold on.”

He quickly made his way back to the door of the cell, poking his head out into the hallway. He snagged the small key hanging from the loop of string on the hook next to the door, and hurried back to Cecil, kneeling in front of him. He quickly inserted the key into the lock of the shackle around Cecil’s ankle, and quickly released the manacle. Cecil sighed in relief.

“What were you thinking,” Carlos asked as he shifted to accommodate the other foot. “Coming here unannounced and unguarded?! You could have been killed, Cecil!”

“But I wasn’t,” Cecil countered. “I was only captured.”

“That’s not the point,” Carlos said with a flight huff as he undid the other ankle’s lock. Cecil rolled his ankles, the bone popping, and he hummed in relief.

Carlos gently massaged the sore and bruised skin where the manacles had rubbed, soothing the ache away. As he did so, he kissed Cecil’s right kneecap lightly.

“Just…don’t do it again, okay?” He asked, pressing his forehead against the other prince’s thigh. He felt Cecil shiver as his breath brushed against a tear in his loose pants, and gooseflesh formed on the exposed skin. “Or else I may have to find some way to punish you.” He whispered.

“Oh?” Cecil’s voice wobbled slightly as he swallowed thickly. “How so?”

Carlos grinned as he sat up a bit more, and ducked his head beneath the hem of Cecil’s tunic, and mouthed languidly at the bulge forming beneath Cecil’s pants.

“I believe,” Carlos growled. “That you know how.”

The sounds that came out of Cecil were beautiful, Carlos thought as his hands stole up the man’s thighs gently, teasingly, and he pulled at the laces of his pants. They were the sounds that had replayed themselves upon Carlos’s consciousness and unconsciousness alike the past month, since their tryst in the library. Cecil moaned as Carlos played with the waistband, rubbing smooth circles into the Noctis prince’s hipbones.

“Is this okay?” He asked Cecil’s consent.

“Yes!” Cecil confirmed, his hips bucking forward slightly as his toes curled into the grout of the cobblestone floor. “Yes, Carlos, yes, please, don’t stop now.”

“As you wish.” Carlos said with a grin he knew Cecil couldn’t see beneath the fabric of his tunic, and finally tugged the laces free and began to work Cecil’s pants down tantalizingly slow. Cecil groaned in anticipation, and as Carlos finally allowed the pants to pool at his ankles, he could see that he was absolutely eager.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” He said as he let his breath ghost over Cecil’s cock, and watched it twitch slightly in response. “Since we parted in Coronis. I’ve heard your voice, seen your face gone with pleasure every night when I sleep.”

“As have I.” Cecil gasped as Carlos began to trail tiny kisses across his pelvic bone. “Which is why I, _ahhhhh…_ ” He trailed off as Carlos nipped at his hipbone, gently sucking at it, and Cecil’s knees shook, and Carlos was certain he would have fallen had it not been for his hands on his thighs.

“Which is why you what?” He whispered as he began to trail kisses lower.

“W-Which is why I s-snuck across the border.” Cecil said, and his back arched slightly, the chains around his wrists rattling as he did so. “I know that we were to meet again in but a month’s time to discuss the treaty we – _ah, yes! –_ couldn’t wait that l-long.”

“Impatient prince, are we?” He teased as he mouthed at the skin just above Cecil’s cock.

“A-as if you a- _ah-_ aren’t!” Cecil said, breathing heavily. “Look at you, on your knees beneath my tunic not even ten minutes into our reunion!”

“True.” Carlos agreed. “However, I can assure you that I am not complaining.”

Before Cecil could come up with a clever retort, Carlos finally turned his attention to the other prince’s hard member, tonguing at it, licking a thin strip from the base to tip. Cecil mewled in pleasure, the chains rattling again, and Carlos hummed as he took the tip of the incapacitated Noctis prince’s penis in his mouth, his tongue swirling up and under the head.

“Carlos,” Cecil breathed. “Are – _ah_ – are you sure this is such a good idea?”

“Mmmmm,” Carlos responded, moving closer so as to take Cecil further into his mouth. “I think so.”

“W-what if one of the g-ga- _aah_ -rds comes back?” Cecil said, and Carlos could hear the strain in that wonderful voice as he tried to keep himself from bucking into the sensations Carlos was drawing from him, like plucking the strings of a lute.

“They won’t.” Carlos assured him, pulling back to lick another slow path down Cecil’s length. “I told them I’d call for them if I required assistance, and believe me,” his left hand stole behind Cecil’s rear, and he stroked at his entrance with feather light touches, causing the man above him to cry out in pleasure. “I _don’t_ require any assistance in taking you apart.”

“N-No fair,” Cecil protested between gasps as Carlos once again took his cock into his mouth, teasing at the slit at the top in such a way that Cecil practically yowled. “While I am loving this – _yes, there, please!_ – why is it that I-I have to endure the absolute torture of – _ohhh_ – not being able to t-touch you, and give _you_ relief?”

“Oh, believe me, love,” Carlos said. “I can take care of myself. You just stand there and try to relax.”

Cecil snorted, albeit awkwardly, as Carlos had once again gone back to tonguing at his head.

Carlos was acutely aware of the aching that had settled between his own legs as he continued to lap at Cecil’s foreskin, relishing in the taste of pre-come on his tongue that was absolutely and distinctly _Cecil,_ but he ignored it so as to focus his full attention on Cecil, and his pleasure, and making him come here, in the dungeons of the castle Carlos called home, with chains about his wrists preventing him from having any semblance of control. It was cataclysmically arousing.

Abandoning Cecil’s stiff member for a moment, Carlos ducked his head, craning his neck to lap away gently at the tender skin surrounding Cecil’s entrance. Cecil howled, growling in his throat so deeply it almost sounded inhuman, throwing his head back and arching into Carlos’s tongue as he licked a single stripe across the flushed skin. He pressed at the entrance of Cecil’s hole lightly with his finger, and very gently slid it inside, just to the first knuckle. Cecil gasped, moaning so deeply Carlos felt the vibrations all the way in Cecil’s cock, which he still had pressing at the back of his palette as he pressed farther inward. He slowly added a second finger, and curled them inwards, searching for that sweet spot he knew drove Cecil _crazy¸_ and Cecil bucked against him again.

“Please,” Cecil begged breathily. “Stop teasing me, Carlos!”

Carlos responded by taking Cecil into his mouth once more, swallowing methodically, all the while pressing his fingers deeper into the other man, pumping slightly, in and out, as Cecil gasped and heaved for breath, unable to form a distinctive word other than the occasional utterance of his name as Carlos began to bob his head, humming around Cecil as he did so, very carefully timing his ministrations to the rhythm of Cecil’s moans and writhing, edging him onwards.

“C-Carlos!” Cecil said, his tone breathy, an octave higher than usual, and Carlos could tell that he was close. He felt his own dick twitch at the thought.

He thrust his fingers against the sweet spot inside of Cecil as he wrapped his other hand around the base of Cecil’s shaft, and began to pump as he continued to suck, taking him deeper, farther, with each dip of his head, and eliciting sounds caught between an ecstatic scream and a frenzied groan from the man above him. He was so, so close.

“ _Carlos!_ ” Cecil cried out, his entire body tightening like a bowstring, the chains pulling taut with a clank as he came, and Carlos took him as deep as he could as he drank it down, stilling his movements until Cecil calmed down, gasping for breath as his body slackened slightly, his legs shaking. Carlos quickly removed himself from beneath the Noctis prince’s tunic, and stood, taking Cecil’s flushed face in his hands and kissing him, deeply.

He pulled away, pressing his forehead against Cecil’s.

“Missed you.” He whispered.

Cecil, still trying to catch his breath, gave him a crooked grin.

“Missed you, too.” He said, his voice raw and still thick with desire, his blue eyes blown and glassy with the aftermath of a good orgasm.

Carlos pulled away from the other man and knelt to tug Cecil’s loose pants back up, retying the laces, and grabbed the key from the floor. He inserted the key into the locks around Cecil’s wrists, and Cecil slumped against him, clearly spent, as the second one was released. Carlos caught him in his arms before he could fall, steadying him as he stroked his blond hair lovingly.

He frowned as he caught sight of the red welts adorning Cecil’s wrists, and he took hold of Cecil’s right hand and raised it to better inspect it. Where the cuffs had been, the skin was raw and raised, with bruises beginning to form near the heel of his hands, where he had been putting most of his weight as he pulled at them. A thin line of blood, extending most of the way around, made Cecil wince as Carlos gently wiped at the blood with his thumb.

“Cecil, if the chains were hurting you, why didn’t you tell me to stop?!” He demanded of the other prince. “I would have in a second!”

Cecil shrugged, tiredly. “It didn’t hurt at the time.” He said. “I was a bit preoccupied.”

Carlos shook his head. “We need to get you patched up, and out of this cell, as… _interesting_ as this has been.” He dropped Cecil’s wrist, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, smoothing back his flyaway hair. “Come on.”

Cecil blinked. “But, what about you?”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“Don’t you, ah…want anything in return?” Cecil gestured to Carlos’s torso. “I mean, don’t you want some relief?”

“Oh.” Carlos had been so focused on the fact that Cecil was hurt, he hadn’t noticed that his erection had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“But--!” Cecil went to protest, but Carlos silenced him with a kiss.

“I want you to get those wrists looked at, and some clean clothes.” He said. “We can worry about me later.”

Cecil smiled slightly and nodded, and Carlos gestured towards the door.

“Follow me.” He instructed.

He took Cecil’s hand and led him through the hallway of the dungeons, and he noticed that they had forgotten Cecil’s sandals back in the cell. Cecil didn’t seem to mind, so he didn’t say anything as they continued towards the staircase that would take them back to the world above, where the guards awaited them. As they did so, Carlos squeezed Cecil’s hand before he dropped it.

“Just follow my lead, alright?” He whispered.

“Of course.” Cecil agreed.

Carlos gave him a single nod, before he led the way up the stairs, into the light of the hallway. The guards, all five of them, stood off to the side of the wall, where they slumped lazily. They jumped to attention as Carlos emerged, bowing, before they caught sight of Cecil, and jumped to action, brandishing their swords and crossbows and aiming them in Cecil’s direction.

Carlos held up his hands.

“Lower your weapons.” He commanded, and immediately, the guards complied. “This is Prince Cecil of Noctis. We met last month at the coronation in Coronis, and agreed upon a possible treaty between our lands that would put an end to the feud that has cost us all great resources and countless lives. He has come in peace to begin the preparations of such a treaty. He is to be treated with respect, given free reign of the castle and its grounds, and is to be given the medical attention he requires for the, er...injuries he has sustained."

The guards blinked. “Yes, of course.” One said at last. “As you wish, sire.”

Carlos nodded. “Good.” He turned to Cecil, and smiled lightly, gesturing with the sweep of his hand outward.

“If you’ll follow me, I will see to it that your wounds are assessed and properly medicated.”

Cecil nodded, and followed him around the corner.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil makes yet another surprise visit, this time in the middle of the night. Not that Carlos is complaining. 
> 
> Until, that is, the King of Vail returns from his voyage early. And finds the princes in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Most of this fic is already written; I am editing what I have written so far as I write transitionary dialogue (also known as the glue. Just...The Glue. It deserves capitals.). 
> 
> More smut ahead! This time with top!Cecil. Honestly, I really don't care who's topping when it comes to reading Cecilos smut; I am not picky. Really. Just gimme. *grabby hands*
> 
> Enjoy!!!!

Carlos was awakened suddenly to the feeling of something settling across his torso. At first he thought nothing of it; sometimes one of his father's little Corgis strayed from his bed and decided to nestle down Carlos, but then he felt as though a looming presence had settled over him, pulling him insistently from sleep. He groaned, and suddenly, a hand shot out and clamped down over his mouth.  
  
Carlos's eyes shot open, his heart beating nearly out of his chest, and he fought to tear his mouth away from the hand against it as he blindly groped for the knife he slept with at his side, finally finding the handle, and clenching it. Another hand came and grabbed hold of his wrist, effectively pinning him to the mattress, rendering him immobile. He continued to try and scream.  
  
"Shhhh, Carlos, it’s me!" A voice shushed him. A very familiar voice. "Please don't scream! The guards will hear you!"  
  
Carlos stopped still, and his hand released the dagger immediately, and it clattered to the floorboards.  
  
The hand was pulled away from his mouth, and Carlos blinked to find Cecil leaning above him, straddling his hips. His blue eyes were wide, with a mischievous spark shining in them, and he smiled nervously.  
  
"What are you doing here?!" Carlos hissed in the dark, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I could have killed you."  
  
"I'm sorry," Cecil apologized. "I just, um...your castle is dark, and quiet, and I, ah..."  
  
He faltered, dropping his gaze. He picked at the edges of the bandages around his wrists and bit his lip.  
  
"Cecil," Carlos whispered, bringing a hand up to Cecil's side. "Were you anxious?"  
  
"I'm not usually!" Cecil insisted. "It's just...I had a, um...mild sleep disturbance."  
  
"Are you prone to those?"  
  
"I was as a child," Cecil confessed. "Less so in my adult years. But sometimes, yes, I still experience them, usually when I find myself in unfamiliar sleeping quarters."  
  
He looked so meek and so unlike the regal prince Carlos knew he was capable of being that Carlos couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.  
  
Silently he lifted the corner of his sheets, and tilted his head to the side.  
  
"Here." He said. "You can lay with me, until you're no longer afraid."  
  
Cecil's face brightened, and he scrambled from Carlos's lap and under the covers. He stretched out beside Carlos, facing him, but not touching him.  
  
Carlos tucked the blankets around him. "Okay?"  
  
Cecil nodded.  
  
"So what do these night terrors usually consist of?" Carlos asked, reaching out a hand to smooth back a lock of Cecil's blond hair. Cecil blushed furiously at the gesture.  
  
"They are never quite the same." Cecil explained. "Sometimes I dream of a dark planet, lit by no sun. Sometimes I dream of two men, one who is not short, and one who is not tall, and they are ominous and foreboding. And sometimes, I dream of people I know."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
Cecil nodded. "Sometimes they are people I have known since my childhood, like my mother, or my cousins Shawn, and my childhood best friend, Earl."  
  
"And of me?"  
  
Cecil's blush deepened, and Carlos grinned.  
  
"Sometimes, yes, I dream of you." Cecil admitted. "Sometimes I dream of our time in the library, or other times I dream of encounters that have never happened. But sometimes...sometimes I dream of you driving a knife through my heart, or a sword into my gut, and, I..."  
  
He faltered, trailing off, and Carlos reached out a hand to lightly touch his cheek.  
  
"I do not now nor will I ever have the desire to harm you, Cecil." He promised.  
  
"I know." Cecil smiled, leaning into the touch. "But that does not mean the terrors are evasive in their visitations. Nor does it mean that they are not horrifying."  
  
"I would never harm you." Carlos moved his hand from Cecil's cheek to cup the shell of Cecil's ear and jaw. "I have grown rather fond of you as of late, I'm afraid."  
  
"Have you now?" Cecil was beaming, but he ducked his head to try and hide his embarrassment, something Carlos thought endearing.  
  
"Mmm." Carlos hummed, itching closer to the other prince. Cecil's blue eyes met his, and he pulled his face towards him, and pressed his lips to Cecil's. The Noctis prince returned it, pressing himself closer to Carlos as a hand stole into his hair. Carlos ran his tongue on Cecil's lower lip, asking permission, and Cecil complied, allowing Carlos to slip inside. Cecil moaned as Carlos did so, and Carlos slipped his hand up Cecil's shirt, splaying his fingers across his abdomen, and relishing in the shiver it produced from the other man.  
  
Never breaking contact, Cecil rolled himself on top of Carlos, and Carlos moaned against the other's mouth as their hips aligned. Cecil became more daring, flicking his tongue into Carlos's mouth to explore, while Carlos's hand trailed down Cecil's spine, counting each vertebra as he traveled lower, settling at Cecil's hips.  
  
Cecil pulled away to peer down at him, one hand on either side of Carlos's head, his blue eyes half lidded with lust. Carlos brought a hand to cradle the back of his head, rubbing lazy circles into his neck with his thumb.  
  
"Still fond of me?" Cecil whispered, that velvet voice thick with unhidden desire.  
  
"Even more so now than I was earlier," Carlos whispered back. "But I assure you, less so than I will tomorrow."  
  
Cecil's lips found his once more, feverishly, desperately, as though e were trying to taste as much of Carlos as possible in the shortest amount of time. Carlos felt himself begin to respond as he returned the kiss, heat sparking from Cecil's skin into his as he ran his hands across the planes of Cecil's shoulders and the small of his back, digging his nails into the other man and gazing them lightly downwards, reveling in the sounds - caught between a hiss and a moan - it elicited from Cecil above him.  
  
Cecil pulled away from him just long enough to pull his sleep shirt from his body, letting it drop off the side of the bed, before he returned his lips to Carlos's body, trailing from his sternum to suck at his throat as he rocked his hips. Carlos gasped as he felt the aching bulge rapidly growing in his pants brush against the one in Cecil's. Cecil pawed at the waistband of his sleeping pants, and Carlos lifted his pelvis just enough so Cecil could tug them down past his knees. Carlos quickly ridded himself of his own sleeping shirt as Cecil shimmied out of his pants, the articles of clothing joining the others on the floor.  
  
Cecil bent over Carlos carefully, still rocking his hips against the Vailian prince, and Carlos groaned at the sweet pressure that was just beginning to niggle in his abdomen as their erections brushed against each other. He grasped at Cecil's shoulders, already out of breath and panting. Oh, how he craved this, from the moment they had parted in Coronis! He craned his head to mouth at the symbol on Cecil's chest, sucking a bruise onto his pale skin there until Cecil ducked to catch him in another kiss as his fingers stroked over Carlos's abdomen, making him shiver.  
  
"Trust me?" Cecil whispered against his lips, his blue eyes meeting Carlos's.  
  
"Always."  
  
Cecil kissed him again, but began to slowly make his way downwards, peppering teasing presses across the taut brown skin of his chest, flicking his tongue against the other's nipples. Carlos felt sparks of pleasure streak through his body at the contact as Cecil grazed his teeth against them gently, and he moaned at the sensation of weightlessness it settled in his stomach.  
  
Cecil ran his tongue over the lined muscles of his pelvis, pausing just above his aching cock, before he glanced up at Carlos expectantly.  
  
"Still trust me?" He asked, and his breath tickled against the sensitive skin.  
  
" _Yes_." Carlos nodded, his hands finding their way into Cecil's blond hair. "Yes, _please_."  
  
Cecil's tongue flattened against the head as he took Carlos into his mouth, agonizingly slow, his eyes still on Carlos's face. Carlos threw his head back, his back arching in pleasure, as Cecil hummed around him. He grasped at the sheets of the bed with one hand, while the other involuntarily clenched at Cecil's hair, and Cecil moaned at the action.  
  
"God, Cecil, yes!" He gasped as Cecil bobbed downwards, running his tongue on the underside of his shaft. He released his grip on Cecil's hair, running his fingers through his soft strands gently as Cecil continued to tongue at him, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed closed. He raised his hips, thrusting into Cecil's mouth, and Cecil placed a hand on his hipbone to keep him down as he bobbed his head, taking Carlos as far as he could go.  
  
The swelling feeling in his abdomen was spreading, and Carlos knew that if Cecil continued - yes, _doing that!_ \- he was going to come, much sooner before later. In the back of his mind he wondered how Cecil was so good at this, but the thoughts were banished with another flick of Cecil's tongue, lost to a chasm of pleasure and euphoria.  
  
" _Cecil,_ " he moaned. He was so close--  
  
Abruptly, as though he could read Carlos's mind, Cecil pulled away. Carlos whined in a way that he would have found undignified in any other context; he was a prince, for goodness sakes!  
  
"Why'd you stop?" He questioned, lifting his head to peer at Cecil. The other prince smirked and licked his lips, which was almost obscene with the filthy look in his eyes.  
  
"I want this to last," Cecil explained, that honeyed voice slightly husky with want as he nipped at Carlos's thighs teasingly.  
  
"Noctis, I swear you're out to kill me." Carlos groaned, his head falling back into the mattress.  
  
"Not kill you," Cecil promised as he licked a stripe up Carlos's cock. "Just tease you a bit, drive you as mad as you drive me. A taste of your own medicine, if you will."  
  
"Tastes awful," Carlos muttered under his breath.  
  
Cecil chuckled. "I find it to taste rather sweet."  
  
Carlos laughed. "You ass," he said.  
  
"Mmmm," Cecil agreed. A hand slowly made it way from Carlos's hipbone to his ass, and brushed against the cleft of his opening. "Maybe."  
  
He reached down on the side of the bed and groped for a moment before producing a small bottle with a green substance inside. Carlos raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Olive oil?"  
  
Cecil hummed in response as he dabbed a dot of the substance on his fingers, before he returned to prodding gently at Carlos's entrance once more. Carlos gasped as the cooler oil made contact with his flushed skin, and again as Cecil slowly slid in a finger, then two, stretching and gliding in and out rhythmically.  
  
Carlos moaned, feeling the niggling return to his stomach. He clutched again at Cecil's hair, gurgling for air as Cecil's fingers found the spot inside of him, sending red hot flames through his entire body all at once, and he jerked against Cecil's fingers.  
  
"Oh, _god_ , Cecil," he managed.  
  
"You are truly beautiful like this," Cecil murmured as he nipped Carlos's earlobe. "You once told me that I would look wonderful against the sheets of your bed, but I assure you, you look even more stunning."  
  
Carlos kissed him, sloppily, and he nearly missed, his fingers curling against Cecil's scalp. The man above him have an appreciative hum against his lips, then mouthed at the junction where the jaw and ear met.  
  
"Do you want to?" Cecil whispered.  
  
"Please," he begged breathlessly. "Please, Cecil."  
  
Cecil kissed him one more time before he once more aligned their hips, and Carlos spread his legs a big wider to accommodate Cecil between them.  
  
Cecil dabbed another few drops of olive oil onto the head of his cock, making sure it was well slicked before he very gently prodded at Carlos's entrance, slowly pushing inwards. Carlos gasped and blindly groped for Cecil's hand at his hip, and Cecil took it, slotting their fingers together.  
  
"Carlos?" Cecil paused. "If I'm hurting you, we can s-stop."  
  
"N-no!" Carlos hissed. "No! I'm okay. Please don't stop."  
  
Cecil squeezed Carlos's hand reassuringly.  
  
"If it’s too much, I'll stop." He promised. He slid forward a bit more, and Carlos's grip on his hand tightened.  
  
"God, Cecil," he moaned as Cecil finally came to a stop, the head of his dick just brushing that sweet spot. " _Oh_..."  
  
" _Carlos,_ " Cecil groaned as he positioned himself in his knees above Carlos, still holding his hand. "Gods above, Carlos..."  
  
"C-Cec _il_ ," Carlos gasped as Cecil thrust into him gently, throwing his head back, his back arching. "Oh god...do that again."  
  
"This?" Cecil whispered huskily as he leant over to brush his lips to the shell of Carlos's ear. He bucked his hips forward, eliciting a cry from Carlos below him.  
  
" _Yes,_ " Carlos garbled. " _Yes,_ Cecil, _like that!_ "  
  
Cecil let go of Carlos's hand after he pressed a kiss to it and held himself up with a hand on either side of Carlos's head, and slowly pulled himself out of the other prince before he slowly plunged back in, grunting softly as he did so. Carlos could already feel the niggling in his stomach heightening, punching so pleasantly, as Cecil sped up his thrusts.  
  
Soft moans filled the room, throaty and low, and it took Carlos's hazed mind a moment to recognize that half of them were his as Cecil began to suck at his jugular while he thrust, his tongue soothing the dark skin as his teeth scraped there. His mouth met the point just below his jaw, and Carlos jerked, his mind reeling, and he could feel the smile on Cecil's face as he licked and sucked at that one spot, all the while his cock brushed the sensitive walls inside of Carlos tantalizingly. Now _this_ was not something he had ever expected.  
  
This was heaven and hell all at once.  
  
"Cecil," he moaned. "Cecil, please, I'm--"  
  
"Shhh, I've got you." Cecil soothed as he nipped at Carlos's neck one more time, before he pressed his forehead to Carlos's. His blue eyes never left Carlos's face as he slipped his hand between them, and palmed at Carlos's aching erection.  
  
What had he fallen to? Here he was, a future king, laid out and completely vulnerable beneath the grounding weight of an enemy prince. He reached out and grasped Cecil's hips as the other man snapped them forward again, and another wave of pleasure washed over him. Carlos had never felt so vulnerable in his life, had never allowed himself to be, and yet, he hardly cared. He opened his eyes and kept a steady gaze on Cecil's face, their foreheads still touching, one hand on the back of Cecil's head, drawing him in, as Cecil took hold of his cock in his long fingers and stroked him, still thrusting readily into him, each time hitting that particular spot and sending Carlos deeper and deeper into the pit of pleasure, and driving him closer to the point of no return.  
  
"Cecil," he breathed, "Cecil, I'm close..."  
  
"Do it, then." Cecil gasped as he thrust again, panting heavily. "Do it."  
  
A few more clever flicks of his wrist and another deep trust inwards, and Carlos came, explosively, all over his and Cecil's stomachs, his back arching high off the mattress as he rode the shocks of bliss as they coursed through his entire body, making his fists curl into the sheets of the bed and Cecil's blond hair. Cecil bent down and crashed their lips together, his tongue in Carlos's mouth as he thrust twice, three, four more times, and gave a high-pitched moan against Carlos as he, too, came, buried deep inside the Valian prince, the two of them almost perfectly timed.  
  
After a moment, they parted, heaving for breath, their hair sticking to their foreheads as sweat poured down their naked bodies, and gazed at each other through half lidded eyes as Cecil very gently slid out of Carlos, and promptly collapsed against his chest.  
  
They laid there, not saying anything for several moments as they struggled to find their breath, Carlos gently running his fingers through Cecil's hair, Cecil's cheek pressed against his sternum. He wrapped his other arm around Cecil, holding him close, loving the way he felt there, skin to skin against on top of his chest like that.  
  
"I think," Cecil said after a moment, still breathing heavily. "That that was the most exhilarating one yet."  
  
"I agree." Carlos chuckled, pushing back the errant curls that had fallen in his eyes.  
  
Cecil looked at Carlos, resting his chin on the back if his folded hands, smiling sleepily. Carlos swept his hand through the sweaty blond strands at his temple.  
  
"You should get some sleep." Carlos said.  
  
"Mmmm," Cecil agreed. "But you're warm."  
  
Carlos chuckled. "Come on, you have to get dressed." He urged, skidding his hands down Cecil's sides.  
  
Cecil sighed.  
  
"Fine." He consented. He pushed himself away from Carlos and pulled back the covers. As Carlos himself shimmied back into his clothing, he couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at Cecil's bare ass as he pulled up his pants.  
  
He slid back into the bed and under the (now slightly mussed; he'd have one of the chambermaids change his sheets on the morning) covers, and sighed contentedly. He was still warm, his entire body tingling with the afterglow of orgasm, and the sheets felt soft and fine against the cooling sweat on his skin.  
  
Cecil fiddled with his sleeping shirt for a moment as he looked down at his hands, standing at the edge of the bed cautiously.  
  
"Carlos," he said, slowly. "Can I stay with you tonight?"  
  
Carlos frowned. "Cecil, if anyone saw you leaving in the morning..."  
  
"No one will see me!" Cecil insisted. "I'll leave before first light! I promise!"  
  
"Cecil," Carlos said, sitting up. "It's not that I don't want you to stay, because even when we...when we had sex in the library, all I wanted was to lay there with you and sleep. But it's horribly risky. I don't want..."  
  
"I understand." Cecil interjected. "You don't want people knowing you're sleeping with the enemy."  
  
The hurt was so evident in his voice it made Carlos's heart break. Without putting on his shirt, Cecil turned away from him.  
  
"I'll just go."  
  
Carlos didn't think; he lunged across the bed and grabbed hold of Cecil's wrist.  
  
"Cecil, wait!"  
  
Cecil turned his head to look at him, and Carlos could see the tears in his eyes. It broke Carlos's heart further, and he held on a little tighter.  
  
"What?" Cecil's voice was small.  
  
"Don't go." Carlos said. "Please don't go."  
  
Cecil hesitated, but he slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"I'm not ashamed of you, Cecil." Carlos whispered. "I'm just..." He sighed. "I've had trysts before. Never with a man, though in Vail it is not unheard of. But when I have, in the past...it's always been with one of the help, a maid or a kitchen girl, so it was never really anything but sex. But with you..."  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I don't want people to think it’s just sex, that I'm only pursuing this treaty so I have a free pass at you whenever I feel like it, because its more than that. I want our lands to prosper, to stop warring with one another, and I want us to be able to be together without anyone thinking that it is nothing more than seduction at its finest." He reached out and placed a hand on Cecil's tattoo, felling his heart beating against his palm.  
  
"I don't want people to judge you, to think that this is only a ploy on your part because you're the prince of Noctis. I want them to see that you're truly wonderful, and not deceitful, or harboring ulterior motives. Do you understand?"  
  
Cecil sniffed, and nodded.  
  
"I understand." He said.  
  
Carlos smiled. He leaned over and kissed Cecil on his forehead between his eyes.  
  
"Stay?" He whispered.  
  
Cecil nodded, eagerly, and Carlos pulled back the covers, inviting the other prince inside once more. Cecil slid in beside him, nestling in close as Carlos covered them both.  
  
"So tell me." Carlos said after a moment, wrapping his arms around Cecil and pulling him close. "You know of my past encounters. What of you? Have you any former lovers to tell?"  
  
Cecil grinned slyly. "Jealous, Prince Carlos?"  
  
"No. I am merely curious, that's all."  
  
"Well, yes, there have been a few, in the past, but unlike you, mine have always been with men. No one in particular. I had a standing affair with my valet once."  
  
Carlos raised an eyebrow. "A valet, eh?"  
  
Cecil shrugged. "It was short lived." he said. "Honestly I am not entirely sure what became of him."

“Hmmmm.” Carlos hummed, his eyes growing more and more heavy as he settled into the soft weight of his mattress, with Cecil’s skin brushing his. He brushed his knuckles across Cecil’s cheekbone. “We should sleep.”

“Do you mean that you would like me to stay the night?” Cecil asked softly.

“If you want,” Carlos yawned and closed his eyes. “Just…be careful when you leave in the morning.”

“I will.” Cecil promised. He paused. “Carlos?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I…touch you?”

“Mmmm. Please do.”

The last thing Carlos was aware of before sleep took him was the settling weight of Cecil’s back to his chest, and the beating of his heart beneath Carlos’s palm.  
  
\-----

The next morning, Carlos awoke slowly as the light of the early morning sun filtered gently through his bedroom window, casting a haloed glow over everything it touched. He yawned and rolled over, where he found Cecil still slumbering peacefully in the bed next to him, his blond hair disheveled, his face serene. Carlos smiled as he brushed his fingertips over Cecil’s brow.

Cecil frowned as he did so, groaning as he swatted at Carlos’s hand as though it were a fly. Carlos chuckled as he leaned over and brushed his lips across the lines between Cecil’s eyes.

“Cecil.” He whispered. “Cecil, wake up.”

“No.” Cecil grumbled sleepily. “Still tired. No.”

“Come on, Cecil,” Carlos pushed at his shoulder. “You promised you’d be gone by sunrise so no one would see you. It’s past sunrise.”

Cecil groaned, and sat up, glaring. Carlos chuckled.

“Good morning, Prince Cecil.” He said playfully.

“If a morning may be considered ‘good,’ then I extend the greeting to you as well, Prince Carlos.” Cecil said back, cracking a small smile. His blond hair was sticking up at odd angles, and Carlos smiled softly as he smoothed down the patches gently. Cecil hummed and leaned into the touch.

Just as he was leaning towards the other prince to kiss him, the sound of footsteps thundering down the hallway outside his bedroom door caused him to jump back in alarm as the footsteps drew closer.

“Under the blankets!” He said to Cecil, lifting the edge of the sheets. “Quickly!”

Cecil did as he was instructed, diving under the sheets, and held perfectly still. Carlos smoothed the blankets, and haphazardly threw some pillows over the lump that was the other man to aid in the illusion of a restless night of sleep.

“Carlos!” He heard a familiar voice ring out from beyond his bedroom door, and Carlos felt his blood run cold.

His father, the King of Vail.

Carlos felt his vision spin. His father was not due back for another week yet! What was he doing home so soon?!               

The King burst into his son’s room, his stern face set with determination, his long black hair tied at the nape of his neck with a red ribbon. He eyed his son stoically.

“It is past sunrise, and you have yet to rouse?!” He demanded. “Is this what you do whilst I am away? Sleep the day away until it is convenient for you to rise and lead? A king is up with the dawn!”

“Sorry, Father.” Carlos apologized, trying to feign solidarity as he rubbed at his eyes, and ran a hand through his unruly curls, even yawning for theatrical effect. “I did not sleep well last night.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “And why would that b—”

At that moment, as Carlos stretched out his feet, the sole of his left foot collided with Cecil’s calf. The other man sucked in a breath at the startling chill of Carlos’s cool flesh against his, involuntarily reacting. Carlos looked, horrified, at his father.

“Father, I can explain!” He started, but it was too late. His father had already grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked it back and off of Carlos, completely exposing Cecil. Cecil bit his lip and looked up at the King, drawing his legs closer to his body.

Carlos saw his father's gaze rove over Cecil, his eyes piercing and cold as he caught sight of the eye of Noctis over his heart. Carlos saw Cecil follow his father's gaze, and he looked back, his blue eyes wide and more frightened than Carlos had ever seen them as the King pulled a dagger seemingly out of nowhere at a blink's pace, and grabbed the Noctis prince by the hair, yanking him off the bed and away from Carlos. He slammed him against the wall by the neck and held the knife to his throat as Cecil whimpered in pain, his head colliding with a crack against the stone.  
  
"Noctis," the King growled menacingly low. "You seem to be far from the pitiful lands you call your kingdom, and in the bed of my son and heir, with little more than your sleeping trousers on. Do you care to speak freely, or shall my dagger loosen your tongue?"  
  
Cecil gave an estranged gasp as the dagger pressed harder against his throat, drawing a thin line of blood, running down his neck in tiny rivulets.

Carlos felt his heart stop, his blood chilling to a sudden still, as he watched Cecil struggle for breath, the life slowly leaving him as his father pressed harder with the dagger. More blood welled around the blade, and Cecil’s blue eyes flicked towards him, silently pleading him to help, and he clutched at the King’s wrists, trying desperately to breathe.

"Father!" Carlos restrained himself from screaming, despite the blind panic rising in his chest, and he scrambled from the bed to put a hand on the King's shoulder. "Father, don't hurt him! Please!"  
  
"He spoke of peace in Coronis, but now I see what his plan truly was," the King snarled, not releasing Cecil. "Sneak into our lands and seduce you, my heir, and then murder you as you slept. You are a fool! You would be dead, allowing this man into your bed, had I not intervened!"  
  
" _Please_!" Carlos pulled at his father's shoulder, but the King was unaffected as he tightened his grip on Cecil's jugular, and the prince choked, his fingers clawing uselessly at the King's hands still. His eyes were beginning to roll back in his head, his lips beginning to tinge blue.  
  
"Stop it!" Carlos wretched himself between his father and Cecil. The King released Cecil in surprise, and Cecil sputtered, gasping for air, coughing as his hands came to his bleeding throat. Carlos placed himself firmly in front of the Noctis prince, backing up so that his hands were splayed out against the wall on either side of the other prince, ensuring that there was no space between him and Cecil that his father could use as leverage. Cecil grasped at his sleep shirt, balling it into his fist, still heaving for breath, his forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. Carlos could feel the gasps for air as he leaned against him, trembling violently.  
  
"Move, boy," the King growled. "Or you'll lose your scalp along the way."  
  
"He means me no harm!" Carlos said firmly. "He is here in peace, albeit a few weeks early, and he has done no wrong!"  
  
"He has tainted your mind with his Noctis lies!" The King spat. "Move! And I'll finish what you are too weak to!"  
  
"I am not weak!" Carlos's face contorted with rage. "I am a king! A king does not stand down when those who need him lie at his back!"  
  
"You are not a king yet! You are an impetuous, impulsive boy that allows his enemy to persuade him with pretty little words and promises of peace! That allows his enemy into his _bed_ for a midnight fuck!" The King held the dagger close to his son's face. "Now move, boy, before I leave my kingdom with no heir!"  
  
"Do it then!" Carlos felt Cecil's breath hitch, his hand fisting tighter into Carlos's shirt, and he shook his head against his back. “If you wish to harm him, you will not do so without going through me."  
  
His father lashed out in fury, pressing the dagger to his son's neck, just below his chin. Carlos swallowed, but he did not waver as he glared at his father. He could feel Cecil’s blood smearing against his skin, and he pressed closer against the man behind him.  
  
"You would throw it all away, throw away your kingdom, and for what?! For a tryst with this Noctis scum?! This pathetic excuse for a prince?!" He demanded, and Carlos heard Cecil whimper. "Is he worth your life, boy?!"  
  
"Yes." Carlos said evenly. "And you would throw away your kingdom's chance for peace, for prosperity, in the name of a petty resentment? Without giving this man a chance to defend himself, to speak of his own?"  
  
"He is Noctis! He is not worth your protection, and neither is his land!"  
  
"He is of Noctis, but does this make him less of a man? He has bested me in more ways than one, Father, and I deem him worthy of my respect, and my protection."  
  
"You are young and know not of what you speak! He is a liar, a murderous heathen sent from hell itself to betray you!"  
  
"You're wrong!" Carlos, with the knife still at his throat, reached back a hand to place it on Cecil's trembling body, anchoring him, reassuring him, and he felt Cecil relax slightly beneath his touch. "He is good, and kind, and far more intelligent than you have ever given him credit for! He would not lead me astray, nor would he ever intend me any harm or ill will! I will not stand aside and allow you to kill him!”  
  
"His kingdom took your brother! Murdered him in cold blood!"  
  
"Cecil had nothing to do with my brother's death! He was not the one that killed him, and you know that! I was barely old enough to hold a sword, and he was no older than I!"  
  
His father's grip tightened on the dagger, pressing it harder against Carlos, but it didn't hurt, nor did it draw any blood as it had on Cecil. His father was a wise man, blinded by rage, but he would not kill him, Carlos knew.  
  
Carlos lowered his voice, "Please, Father, I beseech you to let him live. He has done me no harm, and has not done anything to me that I did not ask of him. I ask for his life in return for the lives of those we have lost in this petty war with Noctis over the years."  
  
Cecil was still pressed against his back, and he felt him bury his face against him, his breathing still ragged and raw. Carlos felt the urge to turn and hold him against his chest, to give him back the breath that was stolen through kisses, to caress the soft hair that had been so harshly yanked at, but he refrained, and continued to stare down his father, letting the King gather his options.  
  
Finally, the King lowered the dagger.  
  
"You speak wisely," he admitted softly. "You speak like a king."  
  
"Then I have spoken of years of my father's wise counsel," Carlos spoke gently.  
  
"I must trust you with this jest," the King said, a bit ruefully, and he lowered the dagger back to its sheath at his belt. "I entrust this man to you, my son. His life is yours."  
  
Carlos nodded, and his father sized him up one last time, as though deciding whether or not he were truly done, before he turned on his heel and left.  
  
Carlos whirled around and caught Cecil in his arms as the other man lost all ability to stand, his hand letting go of its hold on Carlos’s shirt. Carlos picked him up, bridal style, and laid him down gently on the bed against the pillows, grabbing the corner of the sheet and removed Cecil's hand from the wound.  
  
"Your kingdom is set on seeing to it I do not live to see the week's end." Cecil rasped, wincing. He coughed, and Carlos smoothed a hand soothingly through his blond hair. Cecil leaned into the touch, and the grateful look on his face from the gentleness tugged at Carlos’s heart. “First I am escorted across the border in chains, and then your father tries to kill me.”  
  
"I'm so sorry," Carlos said, dabbing at the blood. "He was not supposed to return for a week yet. I had intended to write him of your stay here, to explain your early arrival. I should not have allowed you to stay last night, then perhaps he would not have reacted so viciously..."  
  
"Or perhaps he would have heard of my lodging, or encountered me in the hallways," Cecil said, cutting him off. "And then, without you there to be my prince in shining armor, he would have thrust a sword into my heart without a word of my own say."  
  
He winced as Carlos dabbed at the cut. "Am I going to have to get into a habit of saving you?" He joked.  
  
"Perhaps." Cecil said. "Perhaps I like playing the damsel in distress."  
  
Carlos smirked, humming in amusement as he finished wiping at the blood, before he stood and crossed the room. He dampened the towel in the pitcher of water in the corner, wringing it out before returning to Cecil, and placed the towel around his neck.  
  
"Hold that there," he instructed. "While we go get you bandages. It's not deep, but I'd rather it get wrapped up than leave it to the air. It’s the bruising that’s going to cause you discomfort."  
  
"Look at me, covered in bandages, like a leper." Cecil's blue eyes sparkled with humor despite the rag against his throat. "You are quite the nurse, Prince Carlos."  
  
"And you are quite the patient, Prince Cecil." Carlos kissed his nose. "Now come on. I'll lend you some clothes to wear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cecil can't get a break, can he? 
> 
> Don't worry; there is a CRAP TON of fluff ahead to make up for the Cecil whump. :) Promise! You may die of feels it's so fluffy.
> 
> Also, if anyone caught on to my pokes at Mixxy's FANTASTIC fic "Strange Captivation," you get a cookie!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King of Vail ponders this Prince Cecil, and Cecil learns a little more about Carlos's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT EPISODE. I am not nearly as broken up about it as I could be. I blame adorable princes.
> 
> That, and I've known what was going to happen since the live show thanks to spoilers on tumblr. So I've had my chance to mourn. Now I await Carlos's triumphant return. 
> 
> Until then, fix-it fics and looooooots of 7-Up.

 

The King was _furious._

What was he thinking, allowing that Noctis bastard into his bed like a common whore?! Allowing him to defile him with his filth and lies, to greet him with vulnerability that offered him a way to death?! He had thought his son much more intelligent than that!

And to stand up for him, to throw himself in front of the bastard! To _beg_ like a desperate peasant that his life be spared! To even pretend that his worthless, pathetic existence was worth protecting! The King clenched his fists at his sides and gritted his teeth as he kicked open the door to his private study, the old oak door slamming into the wall noisily. His band of six Corgis looked up from their bed in the corner, and scurried to greet him, but he ignored them.

How _dare_ Carlos be willing to die for that ingrate, that beast from hell itself, that monster from Noctis! How _dare_ he be willing to throw his kingdom at the feet of the enemy in the name of a good fuck, so prettily guised as a treaty of peace! It was _treason_!

The King slammed his fist against the wall angrily, not caring that the motion scrapped his knuckles, and blood welled into the lines of his dark skin. Fury prickled at his nerves, sending scintillating sparks of hatred coursing through his bloodstream.

His son. His own son had betrayed him, had betrayed all of Vail. The King tried not to think of all the things that had likely gone on during the exchange in his son’s bed, tried not to imagine that demon kissing Carlos, touching him, skin on skin, breaths short and heavy. He tried not to imagine his son giving into such carnal desires, such a hideous, dark denial of what and who he was, and what allowing that Noctis bastard to taint him in such a way meant at the deepest level.

The King punched the wall again, letting out a cry of fury. He should not have let him live! He should have torn his son away, thrown him to the floor, and made him watch as he slit the throat of the Noctis prince, let him bleed out there on the floor, as a lesson to what befell kings who dared even consider sacrificing all that he was born for!

He threw himself into the plush armchair in front of the fireplace, slumping into it tiredly, and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, sighing deeply. He felt something cold and wet nudge at the hand hanging off the side of the chair, and he glanced down to find the oldest of his Corgis, George, bumping him with his warm, wet nose.

The King gently placed a hand on top of the dog’s furry head, scratching behind his ears lightly.

“He is a boy,” he said, mostly to himself.  “Eventually, the rush will wear off, and he will see what that Noctis bastard for who he truly is.”

He sighed, and shook his head, rubbing the heel of his hand into his left eye. This was certainly _not_ what he had expected to return home to. His voyage had been cut premature by a landslide in the corner regions of the path through the mountains connecting Vail with the outer edges of the countries bordering it, and he and his men had been forced to retreat back, unable to proceed further.

The signing of the treaty between Noctis and Vail could not come soon enough, he decided. The sooner the agreement was made, the sooner the Noctic prince would return home, allowing things to return to normal.

A thought struck the King like a bolt of lightning. Sitting up straight in his chair, he quickly rose to his feet, rushing to the door.

“Guard!” He called sharply. “Guard, I require assistance this instant!”

Within moments, a guard came jogging from around the corner. He bowed before the King, regarding him with the utmost respect.

“Yes, your majesty?” He inquired.

“Take a message to my son, Prince Carlos.” The King commanded. “Tell him that the treaty between Vail and Noctis will take place at the conclusion of this week, with a ball to commemorate the occasion immediately following. Then send a message to all the countries bordering our lands, all of our allies, extending our invitation to join us in… _celebrating_ the joining of Noctis to our allegiances.” 

The guard bowed again. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Make sure to make it clear that this is to be treated with the highest order of negotiation, and diplomatic secularity is expected to be displayed between the princes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

The King gave him a curt nod. “Good. Now go.” He ordered with a wave of his hand. The guard bowed once more, before he took off jogging down the hall.

The King shut the door to his study and nodded, satisfied with himself, and settled into the chair behind his desk, a light smirk on his face.

“Let this begin.” He said to the Corgi nearest him, this one named Henry. “So that it may be over.”

 

\-----

 

Later that day, with his son busy with his studies, and thus unable to keep the visiting – _trespassing_ – prince of Noctis out of more trouble than he was already in, the King took it upon himself to keep an eye on the Prince of Noctis as he roamed about the castle, exploring the grounds, no doubt poking about for any sort of leverage he could find to report back to his treacherous mother back in Noctis. He had left his Corgis behind in his study – though the pup, Muffin, had tried to slip out the door to follow him, and he had had to pluck one of his quills from his desk to distract the dog with – and had stealthily followed the young prince through the hallways, completely undetected.

For the most part, the prince had seemed almost disinterested, strolling nonchalantly, until he happened upon the entrance to the gardens, at which point a look of excitement had passed over that boyish face of his. He had quickly made his way into the greenery, a contented sigh escaping him as he breathed in the warm summer air.

The King followed, stealthily, silently, through the gardens, his keen eyes never losing sight if the Noctis prince as he strolled through the paths, his hands behind his back placidly.

He bent to smell some of the yellow roses growing in the corner beside one of the fountains, and the King scoffed. Foolish oddball. What a king he would make!

After a moment, the prince pulled away, a pensive and confused look on his face. He cocked his head slightly to the left, as though listening, before he had set his sights on the path to his right and quickly began walking down it.

The King followed close behind, still keeping his distance. It wasn't long before he began to hear a faint sniffling and soft sobbing that he stopped and watched again as the prince leapt over a bush into the grass beyond it.

As the King drew closer, he noticed that there was a small child huddled in the corner of shrubbery towards the back, no older than three or four. Her little legs were pulled up to her chin, her mauve dress dirty and torn, and twigs and leaves stuck out from her curly brown hair. The King recognized her as the granddaughter of the gardener, John Peters.

The vile Noctis prince slowly made his way towards the girl, careful to not make a sound. The King's hand moved to his belt to the dagger he had used to pin the other man to the wall, and would have used to slit his throat had his son not gotten in the way. If he harmed her, if he laid one of his filthy Noctis hands on her...

But no. Instead, he carefully knelt before the child, and very quietly crooned to her in a soft, sonorous voice.

"Hello," he said quietly. "What's your name, little one?"  
  
The little girl sniffed. "Maureen." She lilted softly.  
  
"Hello, Maureen," the Noctis prince said. "I'm Cecil."  
  
"Hello, Cecil." She said back.  
  
"So what are you crying about, Maureen?" The prince asked. "Are you alright?"  
  
Maureen shook her head. "I'm lost!" She whimpered. "Papa told me to stay close where he could see me but the butterfly was so pretty, and now..."  
  
She buried her face in her arms again, and cried.  
  
"Shhh, hey, it's okay!" The prince said, his voice soothing and gentle. "It's okay. Where did you last see your papa?"  
  
Maureen looked up and sniffed. "By the big fountain." She said. "He was tending to the poppies."  
  
"Well I think I know where that is." Cecil said. "Do you want me to take you there?"  
  
Maureen nodded. Cecil held out his hand and helped the little girl to her feet, before she raised her arms, asking to be picked up. Cecil complied, lifting her easily. She touched the bandage around his neck.  
  
"What happened?" She asked.  
  
"Well, I had an accident." Cecil said carefully, and the King unconsciously brushed his fingers over the hilt of his dagger. "So I went to the physician and he fixed me right up."  
  
"Does it hurt?" Maureen asked.  
  
"Not anymore, but it did." Cecil said. "Now, should we go find your papa?"  
  
It startled the King how good he was with children. He had always heard that the Noctics were brutal, and harsh, even using child labor and armies to do their bidding. But this prince, this Cecil...he was very gentle with the child, talking to her soothingly.  
  
"Do you help your papa with the flowers?" He asked as they walked, the King still following close behind.  
  
Maureen nodded. "I like the violets best!"  
  
"I like the daisies." Cecil said. "Have you ever made a daisy crown?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, I will show you sometime!" Cecil promised. The King scoffed. Daisy crowns! _This_ was what Noctis considered a crown prince?! An impish boy that made daisy crowns in gardens instead of focusing on his studies, meeting with generals, and practicing proper fighting techniques? The King almost wished the treaty wasn’t being signed; should another battle arise that called him to the front line, the King had no doubt this pathetic bastard would be easily disposed.

 Cecil and Maureen continued to chatter cheerfully as they walked along the brightly decorated paths. Cecil paused to pluck a bright yellow flower from a vine growing up a column and stuck it behind the little girl’s ear, and she squealed delightedly, and again the King was struck with how good the man was with children. He was very calm, patient, and gentle with the child as he carried her, and Maureen leaned her head against his shoulder. The King couldn’t help but smile at her innocence; children had always been one of his soft spots.

They were nearing the grand fountain now. A man was kneeling beside it, his hands buried in the dirt around the brilliant orange poppies.  
  
"Papa!" Maureen called.  
  
The man looked over his shoulder and smiled at the little girl, but eyed the Noctis prince scrutinizingly. Cecil put Maureen down on the ground and she ran to her papa, who caught her in his arms as he rose to his feet.  
  
"Maureen, what have I told you about wandering off?" He scolded the girl.  
  
"I'm sorry, Papa, but Cecil helped me!" She pointed to the prince, who smiled kindly at her. "He brought me back!"  
  
The man, John Peters Jr., nodded at Cecil, his expression softening. "Thank you." He said. He squinted. "You seem familiar."  
  
The King saw Cecil swallow uncomfortably, and he shook his head. Was he about to tell the truth, that he was the prince of Noctis? Hang it over the head of his gardener, ask him to bow in thanks for returning his daughter instead of sending her off to a labor camp? The King waited to see his response.  
  
"I am a guest of Prince Carlos," he explained carefully. "From a neighboring kingdom."  
  
"Ah. Pine Ridge?" John Peters Jr. asked.  
  
"Ahhh," Cecil stumbled. "Y-yes."  
  
Ah. So he lied.  
  
"Well I thank you, sir." John Peters Jr. said. He tweaked Maureen's nose, and she giggled. "Come on, you. Mama is expecting us!"  
  
He turned away from Cecil and walked back down the path. Maureen turned in his arms and waved back to Cecil, who smiled and waved back.  
  
As he turned to walk the other way, the King decided it was high time he made himself known. He stepped out in front of the prince, and Cecil skidded to a halt, his blue eyes wide with terror. The King saw him glance down at the dagger at his belt, and swallow, the bandage around his neck bobbing, and the King thought he spied bruises along the other man's jugular, through whether they were from his fingertips that morning when he had pinned him to the wall, or his son's mouth, he wasn't sure, nor was he certain he wanted to know.  
  
"Your majesty," Noctis greeted, bowing slightly. The King narrowed his eyes, wondering if he was mocking him. Surely he couldn’t be serious?  
  
"Noctis," he greeted back, giving him a curt nod.  
  
Cecil straightened himself back up to his full height, regarding the King with a straight, emotionless face, his head held high. The King raised an eyebrow when he saw the man's hands fumble slightly before he positioned them behind his back.  
  
"To what do I owe the pleasure, your majesty?" Cecil asked slowly.  
  
"I have been watching you." The King began to circle the other man, slowly, analyzing, as though the prince were cattle at auction. Cecil kept his head held high, his hands behind his back, but his blue eyes followed the King's every move. "As you have roved my grounds."  
  
"I was told I had free reign, sire," Cecil said, and the King detected a slight quiver to his deep voice. "By Prince Carlos."  
  
"Ah." The King said. "You do realize that I am the king? And as such, I hold any and all power over the word of my son?"  
  
"Yes, your majesty."

“And if I wanted you locked within the confines of a cell in the dungeon for the remainder of your say, you would rot there.”

“Yes, your majesty.”  
  
"And if I ordered your immediate death, here upon these cobblestones, it would be done."  
  
The other man's hands twitched, and he swallowed deeply, and the King felt a surge of satisfaction. He nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, your majesty."  
  
"And yet," the King stopped and peered the prince in the eye. They were blue, not colorless, as he had previously thought. "I get the feeling you are unafraid."  
  
Cecil swallowed, and the King raised an eyebrow. After a moment, the prince replied, cheekily,  
  
"No, I am not afraid, but perhaps you are, your majesty?"  
  
"Excuse you?" The King demanded, bristling. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his growing anger. “What did you dare just imply, Noctis?”  
  
"You would not be as eager to intimidate me if you were not at least moderately concerned about the threat that I, apparently, pose." Cecil regarded him coolly, but the King could still see the edge of fear in his composure. "You wouldn't kill me."

“What has brought about this conclusion?!” The King spat. “Do you truly believe that you are invincible?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, I know that I am not.” He said, absentmindedly touching the bandage around his neck. “But you would not kill me, I don’t believe. Prince Carlos…”  
  
"My son asked for your life and I granted it." The King snarled, cutting off the prince. "Don't make me regret that decision, Noctis."  
  
"I wouldn't dare dream of it, sire." The Noctis prince nodded, his face calm and collected.  
  
"This air of cockiness does not bode well for you, boy." The King said sharply.  
  
"Forgive me," Cecil bowed again. "I meant no disrespect, sire."  
  
"I'll bet you didn't." The King grumbled. “What makes you think that you’re welcome here, Noctis?”

“I am here to sign a peace treaty between Noctis and Vail,” Cecil explained, a slightly confused expression crossing his infuriating face. “You declared it yourself, sire, that in but a week’s time, our lands will be joined, and we are to become allies, thus endi—”

“Yes, besides that,” the King interrupted curtly. “Why is it that you believe that you are to be well received within my kingdom? That my people will embrace the idea of allegiance at all? We have been at war with your pathetic country for decades. Countless lives have been lost. What makes you think that there is anyone in this kingdom that will accept you, after all that you have cost my people?”

The prince hesitated.

"Your heir seems fond of me." Cecil said, softer than before.

The King stepped forward, his teeth bared into a snarl like a feral dog.

"Let me get one thing straight; I would rather my son marry a common servant girl than be with the likes of _you_ ," he growled.  "I do not know what alchemical curse you have put upon him to believe you worthy of anything more than a death blow, but I will find a cure, and when I do, Noctis, your head will be severed from your shoulders with the keen blow of an axe."

"And if I did not use alchemical magics?" Cecil dared. "What if it is pure and innocent affection, your majesty?"

The King raised his hand, as though to strike the other man, but Cecil stood, unfazed. The King stopped himself, and gave a frustrated cry, before he dropped his hand.

“This conversation is over, Noctis,” he growled. “But know that I _will_ be watching. And if I catch you slipping up, just once, I will find reason to have you escorted from Vail, possibly in pieces. Are we clear?”

Cecil swallowed, and nodded, and the King thought he saw him wince slightly.

“Crystal, your majesty.” He said quietly.

The King gave the prince one last fierce glare before he turned on his heel, and marched in the other direction without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

 

\-----

 

“I fear your father may not be as keen to warm up to this idea as we had previously hoped,” Cecil sighed as a cup of steaming hot tea was placed in front of him by a servant girl. He was sitting in a chair across a small table from Carlos, who had a book laid out before him, studying it intently. He looked up, frowning, and placed a finger on the line of the page he was reading.

“Why?” He asked.

Cecil raised the cup of tea to his lips, blowing on it for a moment before he gingerly sipped at the scalding hot liquid. The tea was sweet, with a hint of jasmine, his personal favorite, though he doubted Carlos could have known this when he had asked for the brew.

“I spoke with your father today,” he explained. “Briefly. We encountered one another in the garden while I was walking, and he made it very clear that he is not fond of me.”

“There isn’t much he is fond of,” Carlos gave him a lopsided grin. “Except his Corgis. And my mother, when she was alive, and my sister’s children. Mother used to describe him as ‘prickly.’ It always made me laugh as a child.”

Cecil chuckled. “Your mother sounds as though she were delightful.”

“Oh, she was.” Carlos agreed, nodding. His eyes became sad, losing a bit of the spark Cecil had come to know and love. “She…she was a wonderful mother. She really was. Knowing my father, you’d never think they’d make a compatible match…she was so kind and gentle and soft spoken.”

Cecil slowly sat down his teacup on the saucer on the table. Carlos’s eyes had gone unfocused, staring down at a tassel on the rug beneath his chair. He fidgeted awkwardly in his chair. Dare he broach the subject of Carlos’s mother further? Or should he allow the subject to drop where it had landed and not bring it up again?

He remembered the conversations after their love making in the library, how Carlos had said he would be hesitant to accept an immediate proposal. He had said he wanted to get to know Cecil better, to really know him, and Cecil couldn’t deny that he felt the same.

“What happened to her?” He asked softly. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

Carlos looked up, blinking in surprise. He swallowed, unable to meet Cecil’s eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Cecil said, reaching out and placing a hand on Carlos’s. “I’ll understand.”

“No, it’s alright.” Carlos said, laying his other hand atop Cecil’s. “You’re bound to find out eventually. You may as well hear it from me, I suppose.”

He sighed and closed his book, releasing Cecil’s hand. He sat the book on the table carefully, before he looked back at Cecil, his handsome face weathered and full of unspoken grief.

“She died three years ago.” He explained slowly. “In a stable fire. Three of our best mares had just had foals not long before, two fillies, and a colt. We were thrilled, but no one loved the horses like my mother did. She could ride as well as any knight, even sidesaddle. She was the one who taught me how to keep my center of gravity focused when riding and trying to swing a sword at the same time. She was absolutely brilliant.”

Cecil nodded, urging him to continue with the squeeze of his hand.

“Late one afternoon, one of the stable hands in charge of cleaning the stalls and changing the hay got distracted by one of the kitchen girls from the castle. They snuck off to neck behind the garden shed, and he left a lantern burning on the edge of one of the stalls he was baling beforehand, and it got knocked over, and the whole place went up in flames.

“My mother was walking in the gardens with her lady-in-waiting when they saw the smoke, and they both rushed to find help. Several guards were already on the scene, trying to get water from the wells and the fountains to put the fire out, but the fire was already spreading too quickly. They tried to hold her back, but Mother took off running, straight into the fire, saying she had to get the horses out.”

He smiled wistfully. “She was brave, my mother. The bravest person I have ever met. When my brother died in a battle, with Noctis…” He swallowed, and Cecil felt a stab of regret pass through him. Little could be done to change the past, and to right the wrongs that his country had brought upon Carlos and his family, but he could try to make the present better, if nothing else would do. “She was so strong throughout the whole thing. My father was a wreck. My brother was his heir, set to be his successor, the greatest king Vail has ever seen…my father was so proud of him. He was ten years older than I, and he died when I was eleven. It was the hardest time I can remember, until Mother died.”

“I’m sorry.” Cecil whispered.

Carlos shook his head. “Anyway, my mother ran straight into that fire. She didn’t think twice. All she knew was that she had to get the horses and the foals out. I got there as fast as I could, and I watched her running in. I tried to follow her, but the guards refused to let me. After a few seconds the first horses ran out, including the foals. We think she went straight for them. A few guards went in after her, until all but three of the horses were out.

“But then a section of the roof caved in. We heard screaming, and then…”

Carlos stopped, turning his head away, taking a deep breath. Cecil squeezed his hand tightly in his own.

“I am so sorry, Carlos.” He whispered again, tears pricking at his eyes. “I am so, so sorry.”

“I tried to go in after her.” Carlos said, softly. “I heard her screaming, and I ran for the door, but I didn’t make it more than ten feet before the guards caught me. My father had been at the gates when he heard the news, and he arrived just as I tried to save her, and he held me back, telling me it was too late, that she was gone. It’s one of the only times my father has ever held me.”

He smiled, sadly. “He just held me, right there, in front of the guards and everyone as the screams stopped and the stables burned to the ground. He let me cry, let me scream, let me thrash and kick and try to get away, told me it was okay, that everything was going to be okay.

“And then he got angry. He demanded to know how this had happened, just as the stable boy and the kitchen girl returned from their tryst. My father took one look at the guilt on his face and he knew.

“It was one of the first times I had ever seen Father so angry, so full of unbridled rage. He let me go and he grabbed the boy, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and held him by the throat as he screamed at him, told him what he had done, made him look at the burning stables. He told him that it was now his fault that Vail was without a queen, and that he would be punished for his treason. He sentenced him to death, right then and there, without a trial or anything. Just threw him on the ground and had two guards hold him there while he grabbed one of their swords and beheaded him.”

Cecil gulped, and his free hand went to the bandages around his neck, and he was struck with just how lucky he was that Carlos had been there that morning when the King had found them in bed together. He remembered the dark, seething anger that had flooded the King’s eyes as he had held tight to his neck, where Cecil now sported bruises from his fingers, and had cut into the flesh with his knife. Cecil shuddered, clearly remembering the feel of the cold metal pressing against his jugular, cutting inwards slowly, severing his life. He had never before experienced such an anger, such a pure and unadulterated rage, and he hoped to never do so again, but especially at the other end of the King of Vail.

“I remember the kitchen girl screaming, and crying, but I was so angry, so full of grief I remember not caring.” Carlos continued with a shake of his head. “Looking back, now, I don’t even know what that boy’s name was. His negligence was responsible for the death of my mother, and my father killed him, and I don’t even know his name, or who his family was, or even who the kitchen girl was.”

“What was her name?” Cecil asked suddenly, before he could stop himself. Carlos looked at him, confusion written across his face. “Your mother, I mean.”

“Oh.” Carlos smiled again. “Isabella.” He said.

The two men fell quiet, Cecil still holding Carlos’s hand. They remained that way for a time, in silence, neither saying a word. Carlos’s thumb began to rub circles into Cecil’s knuckles, and Cecil was struck once more with just how lucky he was.

“Thank you.” Cecil said finally. “For telling me.”

Carlos smiled at him, and reached out a hand to gently caress his cheek.

“Thank you for listening.” He said. “After she died, we did not speak of her much. It was too painful.”

“Do you miss her?”

Carlos nodded. “Sometimes.” He said. “I wish she could have met you.”

“I…” Cecil faltered, smiling and leaning into Carlos’s palm. “I would have liked that. Very much.”

Carlos smiled and leaned across the table to press a kiss to Cecil’s hand.

“You remind me of her. Some of the things you do, or say.” He said. “You have this energy that she would have loved. She was so energetic, so full of life and wonder.”

They fell quiet again, and after a moment, Carlos retracted his hand from Cecil’s cheek and went back to his book. Cecil watched him pour over the words on the page for a moment, watched as his dark hair fell across his forehead in waves. He saw Carlos glance up at him, and he felt his cheeks redden, his ears beginning to burn, and he quickly picked up the teacup in front of him to busy himself.

Carlos chuckled and went back to his book, but Cecil was quite certain, as he sipped at the hot liquid, that he could see that he was smiling.

 

\-----

 

The thunder was deafening as it bounced off the stone walls of the castle, the lightning blinding as it lit up the otherwise completely dark hallway as Cecil very quickly made his way forward, his bare feet warm against the cool plush red rug that ran along the floor. Another crack of lightning split open the sky, and Cecil could hear the wind roaring and the rain slapping against the roof as he jumped, and very quickly took hold of the hand of the door in front of him, pushing it open. He stumbled into the room, which was lit by a waning fireplace, and quickly made his way forward towards the bed. He didn’t hesitate, as thunder rattled the panes of glass in the window, to throw himself at the empty side of the mattress. The Corgi that had been sleeping at the foot looked up, slightly peeved, his large ears laid back, but he didn’t bother to try and move as Cecil clambered onto the bed and under the covers, pressing himself as close to the familiar body occupying the other half as possible.

Carlos made a quiet questioning sound as Cecil cuddled up to him, and he opened his eyes to look at the intruder. He smiled knowingly.

“Not fond of thunderstorms?” He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Another flash of lightning, almost immediately followed by an incredibly loud rumble of thunder made Cecil shudder.

“Not particularly, no.” He admitted, almost timidly.

Carlos reached out and draped his arm over the other man, pulling him close.

“You can stay here.” He said, nuzzling his nose into Cecil’s blond hair. “I don’t mind.”

Cecil curled closer against the other prince as the thunder shook the bedframe, burying his face against Carlos’s chest. Carlos rubbed soothing circles with his knuckles into the small of Cecil’s back. They laid there, Cecil shuddering each time another lightning bolt illuminated the darkened room, and thunder boomed like the drums of death as rain slapped the window relentlessly, trying to gain entry.

“It sounds as though an army is trying to invade,” Cecil said quietly. “Trying to take me away into the storm.”

“I wouldn’t let them.” Carlos assured him. “You’re safe here.”

“Thank you.” Cecil’s hand curled around the fabric of Carlos’s shirt as the storm spit again. “I promise you’ll have your bed to yourself again tomorrow night.”

“Hmmm,” Carlos hummed. “I kind of like you here.”

“Really?” Cecil squeaked as lightning cracked extremely close, and he pressed even closer to the Vailian prince.

“Sure,” Carlos said, yawning. “You’re not that bad a bed partner. The Corgis are worse.”

The Corgi at the foot of the bed raised his head, as though he completely understood the insult, and got up, moving to Cecil’s side of the bed and curled up in the crook of Cecil’s knees, his muzzle on Cecil’s calf.

Cecil laughed, lightly.

“Good to know.” He said quietly as Carlos’s arm pulled him closer.

He allowed Carlos to hold him until the storm passed, and they could both finally succumb to the call of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised fluff, and I did deliver. :) 
> 
> Also, for those wondering, Pine Ridge is a play on Pine Cliff from the podcast! :p


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos meet in a sword fight that ends with much more than they anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little late; recently I acquired an injury at work involving my right thumb. It's a long and very gross story, so to put it lightly, I ended up losing the tip of my thumb, and had to have it bandaged for a week, which made typing nearly impossible. So I apologize! But! It's better now! :) 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! More Corgi love AND smut coming your way!!!! 
> 
> Chapter Song: "Wild Heart" by Daughtry

When Cecil awoke in the morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was alone.

Well, not entirely alone, if the six Corgis that were spread out across the mattress were to be considered company. Three of them had curled into a ball together at the foot of the bed, while two more had laid themselves a bit more removed from the others. The last one, however, was laying on his back, his little feet in the air, his tongue lolling from his mouth. He was twitching as he growled softly, yipping for dramatic effect. Cecil raised an eyebrow at the dogs. He knew, from what Carlos had told him, that  they belonged to the King, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the King would say to finding them in bed with him. If finding him in bed with his son was any indication, the King aired a bit towards the possessively protective side.

Carlos, however, was gone, his side of the bed cold despite the Corgis usurping his place. Cecil wished Carlos had a clock in his room, or at the very least a sundial, as he wondered what time it was; considering the sun filtering down through the windows, he was certain it was well past nine o’clock, at the latest.

He flopped back down onto the plush bed. One of the Corgis inched his way towards him and laid his muzzle on Cecil’s chest, looking at him with big brown eyes hopefully. Cecil tentatively reached out and petted the dog on the head, the fur soft and silky beneath his palm. The Corgi – Philip, according to the embroidered collar around his neck – closed his eyes contentedly.

As he laid there, Cecil wondered how long Carlos had been gone, and where, exactly, he had gone to. He knew, from the previous day’s endeavors, that the King was strict in his insistence that Carlos rise with the sun, and Cecil had a sneaking suspicion that he had gotten up earlier than that to avoid the King finding Cecil once again in the bed of the Vailian prince. Cecil swallowed and scratched at the bandage around his neck; it was beginning to itch, as were the ones around his wrists. He supposed it was time they be removed, to allow the wounds to air out.

As he flopped the hand that had been scratching at his throat out, his fingers brushed against something crisp and thin, and he propped himself up on his elbow to examine it further. It was a piece of parchment, with a slanted scrawl across it.

 

_Cecil,_

_Good morning! If you’re reading this, it means that Muffin didn’t eat it, and that you’re just now waking up. There is a breakfast of soft sweet rolls, apple slices, and milk waiting for you in the kitchens; I had one of the cooks set it aside for you._

_I should be finished with my lessons close to noon, but until then, feel free to roam as you wish. The library is down the stairs to your left upon exiting the bedroom, and all the way down the hall, third door from the end, if you grow restless and wish for some form of entertainment. My father had meeting with the generals and royal council for most of the morning, and part of the afternoon, so I don’t believe you should encounter him._

_If we do not come across one another before, I will meet you in the library at a quarter to three for afternoon tea, same as yesterday._

_Until then,_

_Carlos_

Cecil smiled and folded the note, slipping it into the pocket of the sleeping pants Carlos had lent him. He stretched as he sat up in the bed, yawning deeply as he did so. He ran a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp, before he carefully extracted himself from under the covers. The Corgis nearest him looked up sleepily, while the one that had been sleeping on his back gave a mighty twitch that sent him rolling onto his side and up onto his feet. He shook his head, clearly dazed, before he sat back down and began panting contentedly, his little bobbed tail wagging as he set his sights on Cecil.

Cecil chuckled. His mother had always hated dogs, and Cecil himself had always found himself to be more of a cat person, so he had never had a dog before. He reached out and scratched the one that had woken up behind the ears.

“You certainly are a character…” He mused, glancing at the embroidery on the collar. “…Muffin?”

Muffin’s only response was to lick Cecil’s hand.

Quietly, Cecil made his way back towards the bedroom door, and stuck his head into the hallway, glancing to both sides to make sure he was alone before he slipped out into the hall. He left the door slightly ajar for the Corgis, and quickly made his way back down the hall into the guest room Carlos had given him, despite having not slept in it once since his arrival. He bustled inside hastily and very carefully shut the door.

Sighing, he turned and walked towards the bed, where he sat down and rubbed a hand over his face. A flash of violet caught his attention out the corner of this eye, and he turned to find his favorite tunic – the one that had been torn during his apprehension upon entering Vail – hanging from the screen in the corner. He stood and walked over, examining it. The tear down the front had been mended, seamlessly, and he smiled. It was almost as if it hadn’t been torn at all! He noticed that a bag sat on the floor next to the tunic, and Cecil dove at it excitedly, recognizing it as the one he had brought with him on his journey, which contained his change of clothing – an extra set of the loose leggings he wore; a more formal tunic; and his favorite furry pants – his favorite soap, his comb, and his favorite book of poetry. Everything was still in order, and he sighed in relief. He hadn’t been sure what had become of his possessions after the guards had taken them, but he was certainly glad to have them back.

On the tunic, another piece of parchment had been pinned to the collar, and Cecil recognized Carlos’s handwriting.

 

_I had the tailor fix your tunic. I know you said that it’s your favorite. I also had the guards return your bag to you, and you’ll find your sandals beside the bed._

_–Carlos_

 

Cecil grinned, and gently tugged down his tunic, holding it to his nose and inhaling. It smelled of home, of his room back in Noctis, and he felt a stab of homesickness. He knew that it wouldn’t be too much longer before he’d be home again, and despite the warmth of curling against Carlos at night, Cecil missed his bed, his room, his books…

Shaking his head, Cecil laid the tunic down on the bed, and stripped out of the pants and shirt Carlos had lent him to sleep in, and quickly redressed in his own clothes for the first time in days. He tied the laces of his pants, and slipped his tunic over his head, smoothing the soft fabric down, relishing in its familiarity. He laced up his sandals, and splashed water onto his face from the bowl in the corner, and combed his hair to his liking before he made his way back into the hall, and began the trek in the direction Carlos had said the library was. As he passed Carlos’s room, a little head poked into the hall, and the Corgi with “George” embroidered on his collar trotted out behind Cecil, following him down the hall.

Cecil had no trouble finding the library, and he made a beeline for the shelves, running his finger lightly along the spines of the unfamiliar books. Eventually, after a little wandering, Cecil found a book on the history of Vail – he supposed that if he was about to enter a peace treaty, and thus become allies with Vail, it was probably best he know at least a little of its history – and he nestled himself into one of the big chairs next to the unlit fireplace, sighing happily as he did so. As he opened the book and began to read, something warm settled across his lap, and he looked down to find George sitting contentedly across his legs, his head on his little paws, his eyes closed. Cecil shook his head, smiling, and patted the dog before he went back to his book.

He was so engrossed in the book that he didn’t notice the figure as it appeared in the doorway until a voice barked out,

“Snooping, Noctis?”

Cecil jumped, and the Corgi in his lap looked up, alarmed. Cecil slapped the book closed, and looked towards the voice. The King strode forward, a scowl (Cecil was almost fairly certain it was his natural expression) planted firmly on his face. He eyed the book of Vailian history in Cecil’s hands, and Cecil gulped, knowing it was far too late to try and hide it behind his back.

“N-No.” He said, and cursed himself for stammering. “I just…I thought that since our countries are about to enter an alliance, it might be beneficial for me to know at least the basics of Vailian history and politics.”

The King looked at him skeptically, but he said nothing as he looked down at the Corgi still sitting in Cecil’s lap.

“First my heir, and now my dogs, too?” He grumbled. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”

George barked. The King glared at him.

“George, I would have expected this out of Muffin, but _you_?!” He reached out and grabbed George’s collar, pulling him off of Cecil’s lap. “Bad dog, fraternizing with the enemy!”

Cecil chewed his bottom lip before he raised a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but the King cut him off furiously.

“Not a word, Noctis.” He growled menacingly. “Not. A. Word.”

Cecil closed his mouth as he watched the King pick up the Corgi and turned and stormed out the door. He looked down at the book in his hands, suddenly a bit more apprehensive about reading it, and placed it gently on the table next to him.

He wondered what the King would do once the treaty with Vail had been signed…

His stomach growled angrily, and Cecil realized, with a start, that he hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before, and he decided to seek out the breakfast that Carlos had had the cooks set aside for him. Perhaps a good meal would do him some good.

And then, perhaps, he would seek out the company of a certain prince…

 

\-----

 

Carlos gave a triumphant cry as the fencing sword he was using to practice connected with the wood of the heavy wooden pole driven into the ground, leaving a satisfying swish in the air as he spun around and slashed at it again. The rounded end of the sword did nothing in the way of damage to the pole, but Carlos did not need marks to prove that he had struck home; the reverberations through the thin metal into the handle tickling the skin of his palm was more than enough.

He loved fencing, and sword fighting. Ever since he was old enough to hold a sword, he had loved everything about it: the weight of the weapon in his hands, the knowledge of its potential and power, the care that went into the craftsmanship of the blade, the exhilaration of driving the edge home into the intended target. Fencing was much more about agility and speed than sword fighting, which relied heavily upon execution and precision.

“Have you ever fenced left handed?” A velvety voice sounded behind him, and Carlos very nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around to face the intruder, his sword out before him defensively, instinctively, his muscles taut and ready for battle.

Cecil stood behind him, leaning against the small wooden fence that separated the practice yard from the rest of the courtyard. He was dressed in the tunic he had worn when he had crossed the border into Vail, and if Carlos hadn’t known how badly it had been torn, he would have sworn it had never had a stitch out of place. It was a rich lavender in color, and the silver silken designs along the neckline and hems accented Cecil’s collarbone nicely. He was smiling softly as he watched, the warm summer breeze ruffling his blond hair, and Carlos felt his heart do a strange flip in his chest at the sight of the Noctic prince.

He grinned at the other man as he shook his head.

“No.” He said. “I’m right handed.”

Cecil hummed and jumped the fence, crossing the grass to stand next to Carlos.

“I was raised ambidextrous.” He explained, taking the fencing sword from Carlos and holding it in his right hand. “My mother believed that cultivating both sides would aid me in battle one day. For example,” he slashed at the practice pole, so quickly Carlos wondered if he had blinked. “Say I am struck by an arrow in my right shoulder. I can then switch to my left hand,” he tossed the hilt of the sword from his right to his left hand, and he slashed at the pole again, with the same precision and speed as he had before. “And still be able to fight effectively.”

“Impressive!” Carlos admired, nodding. “I do believe that had we met on the battlefield, you would have proven to be quite the formidable foe, Prince Cecil.”

Cecil beamed. “You did not appear to be doing horribly yourself, Prince Carlos.” He held out the sword, and Carlos took it. Cecil picked up one of the spares where it lent against the post of the fence, and shifted it into his right hand. He quirked an eyebrow, grinning widely. “A match, perhaps?”

Carlos grinned. “A match it is, then.” He agreed.

As they walked apart, readying themselves for the task ahead, Carlos paused to pull his sweaty shirt from his body, relishing in the refreshing breeze against his sticky skin. He turned, sword at the ready, to find face Cecil, who had taken his stance and was gazing at Carlos’s bare chest, a pink blush gracing his cheekbones, his eyebrows raised in obvious interest. Carlos smirked.

“It will do you well not to get distracted, Prince Cecil,” he teased lightly. He thrust the sword forward towards Cecil, who seemed to snap out of it immediately, bringing up his sword to parry Carlos’s attack. “Distraction can lead to serious consequences.”

“I am aware,” Cecil remarked, before he brought his own sword forward, aiming to slice at Carlos’s side. “However, minor distractions are to be expected during a battle. One cannot simply focus on one thing when chaos is erupting around you. There will always be distractions,” he jabbed at Carlos again, but Carlos quickly deflected it, their swords connecting with a satisfying _shink_. He thrusted Cecil’s sword off of his, and Cecil took a step back, away from him, and eyed him with a calculating expression, his blue eyes fierce with determination.

“And one of the greatest obstacles one must face, and overcome, is such distraction.” Carlos jabbed at Cecil again, to the left this time, but Cecil countered his attack by switching hands, the hilt of the sword resting securely in his left palm. Again their swords met, and Carlos couldn’t help but give a short laugh at the almost indolent way Cecil regarded the task.

The two continued like this for several more minutes, slowly making their way in a circle around each other, their swords connecting much more frequently, the two of them falling into a pattern-like rhythm. Cecil was incredibly light on his feet, able to parry and shift his weight and stance gracefully from one foot to the other as easily as he did with the sword and his hands, and Carlos could not help but be slightly enthralled at the sight of it. Cecil moved lithely, like a dancer, but his moves were precise and carefully calculated, and Carlos found himself often surprised by a blow.

After a few rounds, the two of them paused, pleasantly out of breath, and Cecil held up a hand in gesture of a break. He put down the sword, leaning it against his calf as he hitched up the fabric of his tunic, pulling it up and over his head, and flinging the garment over the fence.

Carlos swallowed thickly as a bolt of desire struck him like a slap to the face. He had seen Cecil naked, twice now, but only in the dim lighting of the Coronis library, and again by the fading light of his fireplace two nights before, but he had never gotten a chance to completely admire the Noctis prince’s bare chest in broad daylight.

The tattoo of the eye of Noctis stood out starkly against Cecil’s pale skin, and Carlos realized with a start that the ink was a deep shade of purple, instead of black, as he had previously thought. Fine blond hairs dusted across Cecil’s pectorals, and while Cecil was in no way extremely muscular, he also sported the defined muscles of someone who moved around a lot, and was well exercised. He was in no way statuesque, but Carlos found him to be attractive, nonetheless, and the odd rush of fluttering returned to his chest.

Cecil took a step toward him, and before Carlos had any time to even raise his sword, he suddenly found himself lying on his back in the dirt, the breath completely knocked out of him. His head collided with the earth, and his sword fell from his grasp. He blinked up at the sky as a dark figure came into his line of vision, blotting out the sun, and he found the rounded tip of the fencing sword poking against his nose. Cecil grinned down at him.

“What was that you said about becoming distracted, Prince Carlos?” He teased.

Carlos laughed, and Cecil lowered his sword, leaning down and reaching out a hand to hoist Carlos back onto his feet. Carlos grasped his hand tightly, not letting go even after he was up right once more. His gaze roved over Cecil’s torso again, and up close, he could see that small scars dotted the taut skin in several places, though none seemed as though they had been horribly detrimental.

He glanced up to find that Cecil gazing at the dark skin of his own chest, appreciatively, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, his eyebrows raised in obvious intrigue, and Carlos felt yet another pang of desire wash through him. He slipped an arm around Cecil’s waist, pulling him close, their bare chests brushing.

“I happen to be done with my studies for the day,” he whispered as he bent his head to kiss behind Cecil’s ear. “What do you say we go back inside and, ah…enjoy each other’s company?”

Cecil grinned coyly at him as he pulled away, the lust flickering in those brilliant blue eyes. He kissed him, letting his hands wander down Carlos’s toned biceps, humming softly in pleasure.

“Mmmm,” he agreed. “I’d place my vote immediately in favor of this idea.”

They wasted no time making their way back towards the castle, leaving the practice yard behind them, and hurried inside. Carlos led the way through the hallway, and quickly opened an unassuming door, ushering Cecil inside the unfamiliar and rather plain room. No sooner had the door closed behind them did Carlos pin Cecil against the wall, his thigh between Cecil’s legs, kissing him senseless.

Cecil moaned softly in pleasure, allowing his hands to rove over Carlos’s bare back; in their haste, they had forgotten their shirts in the practice yard.

“Where are we?” Cecil asked when they pulled apart to take a breath. “This isn’t your room.”

“This is one of the guest rooms,” Carlos explained between kisses. “In the guest wing of the castle. No one ever comes down here, so we’re less likely to be seen or heard…”

“Ahhh,” Cecil smiled into the kiss. “Well, in that case…”

He grabbed hold of Carlos’s shoulders and spun him around, pushing him up against the wall with a soft thud, and pressed himself close to him, covering the Vailian prince’s mouth with his before he could utter a sound of protest. Carlos’s arms encircled his waist, pulling him closer, and Cecil’s hands gently explored the expanse of Carlos’s chest, carding his fingers through the soft curly black hair there. Carlos moaned as he began to mouth at his jugular, grazing his teeth lightly over his Adam’s apple before he began to trail kisses further down, across the dark skin of Carlos’s shoulders, chest, sternum, and abdomen. He sank to his knees in front of the other man, and slipped his index finger beneath the waistband of Carlos’s pants.

He looked up at him.

“Can I…?” He asked.

Carlos nodded, a hand already finding its way into Cecil’s blond hair, his heart thundering against his chest, the fluttering completely out of control.

“Yes, please,” he consented thickly.

Cecil needed no further encouragement. He undid the laces of Carlos’s pants, and tugged them down, wasting no time taking Carlos’s already throbbing erection into his mouth. Carlos’s head thunked against the wall behind him as he threw it back in pleasure, his eyes closed tightly.

“Oh, _god,_ Cecil!” He gasped as Cecil’s tongue traced a light, teasing line along the underside of his cock, while never removing it from his mouth. “Don’t stop. That…that feels good.”

Cecil hummed around him, and bobbed further down Carlos’s shaft, completely abandoning the clever ministrations of his tongue. Carlos gasped and groaned, loudly, resisting the urge to cry out as Cecil swallowed around him, causing a full body shudder to course through Carlos’s entire body. He bit his lip, moaning, his hand gently caressing the fair hair in front of him.

Carlos’s legs were shaking, and he felt as though he were going to fall, and he was certain he would have had it not been for Cecil’s hands on this thighs holding him up and against the wall. He could feel the familiar niggling beginning to dance in his lower abdomen as Cecil’s long fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, and stroked him as he bobbed downwards again.

“Oh god, _Cecil_ ,” he moaned quietly. “Please don’t stop.”

Cecil, in response, just chuckled against him, and fiery shards of passion sparked from the vibrations of his voice into Carlos’s aching length, and up through the rest of his body. His heart felt like it was going to explode, and he felt as though his entire body were flushed, warmth spreading outwards. His hand tightened in Cecil’s hair, his nails lightly grazing the Noctis prince’s scalp, and Cecil moaned, and again Carlos felt the sound reverberate through him like the thunder crashing against the walls.

The niggling in his stomach was growing stronger, and he recognized it as the telltale sign that he was close. Cecil sped up the bobbing of his mouth and strokes, his tongue flicking over the sensitive head as he did so; it was so good, so absolutely _amazing_ Carlos couldn’t contain the cry that came from his mouth as his heart sped up again.

“I’m close,” he panted, managing to find a bit of breath. “Cecil, I’m close, don’t stop, _ahhh_!”

Cecil’s teeth grazed the tingling skin of Carlos’s cock, and Carlos could hardly stand it. He was close, so very, very close…

“Oh god,” he breathed. “Cecil, you— _ahhh, Cecil!_ ”

He came, harder than he had come in a long time, and Cecil continued to gently suck at his shaft, making sure he was completely done before he removed his mouth from Carlos. Carlos loosened his grip on the man’s blond hair, stroking the strands as he gazed, half lidded, down at the beaming man on his knees in front of him. Cecil nuzzled at his thigh, his warm breath tickling the tingling skin, and Carlos felt another intense wave of passion – pure, and utter affection – pass through him.

After a few moments to catch his breath, he helped Cecil to his feet. He kissed him, tasting the bitterness on his tongue that he knew to be him, and cupped the back of Cecil’s head gently.

“Cecil,” he whispered. “That was amazing.”

Cecil smiled. “I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He said, his voice thick from having done as he had. “I enjoyed it myself.”

Carlos chuckled. He pulled Cecil close to him, loving the way Cecil’s warm skin felt against his own. He trailed his fingertips down Cecil’s abs, and felt the other prince shiver in response.

“Now, how about I…”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps, fast and heavy, coming swiftly towards them. Carlos’s hold on Cecil tightened, pressing them closer together, as he heard the familiar voice of his father calling his name.

 _“Carlos!_ ” He thundered. _“Carlos, where are you?!_ ”

Cecil’s blue eyes were wide with terror as he looked at Carlos, who held a finger to his lips, and shook his head. Cecil nodded, and buried his face against Carlos’s shoulder as the footsteps grew closer.

 _“Carlos!_ ” The King bellowed again. “ _Carlos!_ ”

Carlos could feel the thudding of the King’s heavy steps as he passed the closed door that he and Cecil were pressed against, and he held Cecil tighter, so tightly he was certain he would leave bruises in the man’s shoulder. He didn’t dare even breathe.

Only after the footsteps faded down the hall did Carlos relinquish his grip on the Noctic prince’s body. Cecil looked at him with wide eyes, and after a moment, he grinned, widely, and Carlos couldn’t help but grin back, until they both fell into barely constrained laughter.

“We’d better get back to our own rooms,” he suggested after he had caught his breath. “If he catches us together, like this…”

Cecil nodded, the smile still on his handsome face as he continued to chuckle.

“Exhilaration without danger is nothing.” He said. “But I agree. I believe he may have found our shirts in the practice yard…”

Carlos shivered, suddenly very aware of his lack of a shirt, and the fact that his pants were still pooled around his ankles. He bent and quickly tugged them back up, retying his laces tightly. He looped an arm around Cecil’s waist, still holding him close as he slowly and quietly opened the door and poked his head into the hallway. Once he was sure it was clear, the two princes quickly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind them, and started the opposite way, Carlos keeping a firm grip on Cecil’s hand the entire time. They were both very well aware that if they were caught, the both of them shirtless, by the King…

Still, even as they hurried back towards the staircase that would take them to the hall where their bedrooms were located, Carlos could not ignore the sense of growing warmth that radiated from Cecil’s palm pressed against his, and the undeniable urge to never let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: the King and Carlos have a discussion involving the Prince of Noctis, and Carlos encounters a scenario that proves just how far his father is willing to go to protect his kingdom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos isn't used to feeling terrified, but especially for another as he is for Cecil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than its predecessors, but I assure you, the following ones will be a bit longer. :) 
> 
> The next chapter may take a little longer to come than these last five; I am currently in the process of writing another fic, this one for Mixxy's upcoming birthday, involving some smutty Cecearlos, so be on the look out for that one VERY SOON. :) 
> 
> Chapter Song: "Judas" by Lady Gaga
> 
> ((Also, I now have no idea how long this story is going to be. I doubt only 8 chapters.))

Somehow, Carlos managed to arrive back at his bedroom just a few precious seconds before his father rounded the corner, and he hastily began to tug a new undershirt over his head as his father burst into the room. His father was red in the face, seething, his long black hair in disarray as he stormed towards his son, and Carlos saw that he held Cecil’s tunic in his hands. Carlos forced himself to remain as neutral as possible, swallowing down the barest hint of panic as it rose in his throat.

“What is the meaning of this?!” The King demanded, brandishing Cecil’s tunic in front of Carlos’s face. “Care to explain to me why it is that upon my arrival in the practice yard to oversee your performance, I am greeted not with my son diligently practicing his fencing and sword fighting techniques, but instead by an abandoned yard, and clothing strewn across the grass, my son nowhere to be found?!”

Carlos reached out and took the tunic from his father, mentally chastising himself to the surface of the moon and back for being so careless in leaving them behind. “My apologies, Father.” He said quietly. “I was practicing in the yard when Prince Cecil joined me. He challenged me to a dual, during which we became warm from the sun. We then scouted out the comfort of cool well water and the shade of the castle, and forgot to take our shirts with us in the process.”

His father’s eyes narrowed, and Carlos tried to retain the air of calm he had so viciously grappled for, holding tight to the edges of it, praying to the Lord above that his father believed him.

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” his father warned, his voice dangerously low. “Is it that you believe me to be an incompetent fool?”

“No, Father, never!” Carlos insisted, raising his palms outwards. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his forehead again as his father stepped closer, his face red with anger.

“Mark my words, boy, if I find that you and that wretched heathen from Noctis are sneaking off to fuck each other during the time that is set aside for your education, or any other time, for that matter, do not believe that I will hesitate in removing the distraction from your daily rituals. Do I make myself clear?”

“Prince Cecil is not a distraction.” Carlos countered evenly.

“Nevertheless, ever since he arrived, it has seemed as though you have become absolutely consumed by him! Did I not warn you of his deceitful ways? Surely this is him trying to distract you, to keep you as distracted as possible, until the time is right for him to make his move against you.”

“That isn’t true!” Carlos’s fist clenched around the soft fabric of Cecil’s tunic in his hand. “Prince Cecil would not harm me! Ever!”

“The fact that you believe such a blatant lie only furthers the proof of his influence over you!” The King shouted. “I have kept a close eye on the two of you, I know of your sleeping with him each night since his arrival!”

“It is only sleeping!” Carlos was beginning to lose his grip on his confidence, feeling it slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “What harm is there in that?”

“He is _Noctis_!” The King yelled. “The only reason he is not dead, his head mounted upon my wall like a beast from the jungles of exotica, is due to your begging for his life! I granted his life, and gave it to you, but not so that you could continue this disgusting affair against everything you have been taught to trust! You are a fool. Your brother would have killed him the first time he laid eyes on him, had Noctis not murdered him!”

“I am not my brother!” Carlos screamed. “And there is nothing that can be done to change the past! Nothing on this earth can bring my brother back! He is dead, Father, and I cannot be him. I do not want war with Noctis. My friendship with Prince Cecil is my own decision, and nothing you say or do is going to convince me to throw away Vail’s chance at peace because you find that you are unable to let go of the past. As Vail’s future king, I will do what I believe is best.”

His father stepped forward, and for a moment, Carlos was worried that he would strike him. Instead, he thrust a finger in Carlos’s face.

“You watch your tongue, boy.” He warned. “As for that bastard from Noctis—” Carlos felt a flare of protectiveness at the defilement of Cecil’s existence, “—if I catch the two of you giving into carnal desires again before the signing of the treaty in three days’ time, rest assured, it will be the last you see of him. Do you understand?”

Carlos swallowed the angry retort caught in his throat, and nodded curtly.

“Yes, Father.”

His father, without so much as another word, turned on his heel and stormed from the room. Carlos watched him go, before he sank down onto the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands, and he did not move again until Cecil came searching for him.

 

\-----

 

The next morning found Carlos much later than usual, the sun already well past the horizon. Carlos blinked against the bright light that assaulted his eyes, squinting against it, and for a moment, he wondered where he was. Surely, his father would have come to rouse him by now? It was not a holiday, not a day of rest that he could remember.

Arms slipped around his bare middle, and Carlos felt the press of lips against the tattoo of the seal of Vail in the middle of his back. Cecil pressed his forehead against Carlos’s shoulders, nuzzling his nose against the bare skin, and Carlos bit his lip to contain the giggle that threatened to give away his consciousness; he had always been ticklish.

“Good morning.” Cecil drawled sleepily, his palms gently caressed the skin of Carlos’s chest.

Carlos tilted his head, trying to look over his shoulder.

“How did you know I was awake?” He asked.

He felt Cecil’s smile. “I’ve been awake for a while.” He answered. “Watching you. Your body language is much different when you are awake than when you are asleep.”

Carlos rolled himself over onto his side so that he was facing the Noctis prince. He brought up a hand to stroke a thumb across the still healing bruise on Cecil’s cheekbone.

“Good morning, then.” He said, smiling warmly. “I take it I haven’t missed much?”

Cecil shook his head. “No, not at all. I was surprised when your father did not come to wake you. I know I should have left for my own room after I awoke at sunrise to find that you had yet to arise, but…you just looked so peaceful, I couldn’t bear to just leave!”

Carlos smiled and kissed Cecil’s nose. “I’m not complaining to waking in your arms.” He assured him. “It just surprised me is all. Father is usually so adamant I rise with the sun…”

Cecil nodded, but said nothing further as he withdrew his arms from around Carlos and sat up, stretching his arms as his back bowed, cracking in several places. Carlos followed him close behind, grateful for the soothing pressure the stretch put into his muscles.

“Truly, though, it is a tad suspicious that your father has not yet insisted that you get up.” Cecil said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to retrieve his night shirt, which had been removed the night before during a particularly lovely round of kissing (but, disappointingly, nothing further). Carlos snuck a peek at the Noctis prince’s ass as he bent over to grab the shirt, shameless in the thrill.

“I will miss this,” Cecil said as Carlos got up to find an undershirt in the trunk against the wall. “When I return to Noctis. Waking up next to you, I mean.”

Carlos hummed in agreement as he tugged the shirt over his head. He turned and walked back to the bed, where Cecil had sat at the edge. He sat down next to him, and took his hand.

“It’s not for forever, Cecil.” He said gently. “We are about to enter an alliance, and we will be seeing much of each other as the future becomes present. We still have yet to enter Noctis and undergo the second signing of the treaty there, yes?”

Cecil nodded. “Well, of course.” He agreed. “But…I have grown fond of being in your company. We will be together again during the signing of the treaty in Noctis, yes, but until then…I do not think I shall enjoy our separation all that much.”

“Rest assured I won’t like it any more than you will.” Carlos promised. He leant forward, towards Cecil, once again reaching out a hand to cup Cecil’s cheek.

No sooner had his lips met Cecil’s did the door to his bedroom suddenly burst open, the door slamming against the wall. Four guards swarmed into the room, and headed straight for the two princes on the bed.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Carlos demanded as he stood swiftly to his feet. “How dare you barge into my chambers like this!”

The guards ignored him, sending a furious shiver through Carlos, but he barely had any time to even demand that the guards leave before two of them grabbed Cecil from where he sat on the bed, roughly, as Cecil gave a surprised cry.

The guards pressed Cecil's shoulders into the floor, and one twisted his arms behind his back. Cecil was crying, his face streaked with tears as the fourth guard pressed his knee into the small of his back. Carlos felt anger begin to build within his chest, along with a growing feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, and he straightened to his full height, squaring his shoulders, anything to make himself appear bigger as he rushed over to where the guards held Cecil to the floor, grabbing the one nearest him by the shoulder, trying to wretch him off of Cecil.  
  
"Stop!" Carlos commanded. "You're hurting him!"  
  
The guards ignored him, and Cecil lifted his head to look at Carlos with wide, wild blue eyes, but the guard slammed his head back down against the stone floor violently. His face twisted in pain, and he whimpered.  
  
" _Stop!_ " Carlos snarled, furious, as he dropped to his knees next to Cecil, putting himself between the guards and the other man as best he could. He reached out and stroked a hand through Cecil’s blond hair, soothingly, the touch light and reassuring – the only tenderness he could possibly offer with four men on top of him, treating him so harshly. “I am your prince! You do as I say! Why aren't you listening to me?!"  
  
"Because I ordered them not to."  
  
Carlos looked towards the doorway, where his father stood, flanked by three more guards. He strode into the room, his face stoic and free of emotion, and stopped in front of his son and the Noctis prince, his hands behind his back as he glowered down at them.  
  
"Father!" Carlos did not move from his place next to Cecil's head, though his hand stilled in his soft hair. "What's going on?!"  
  
"I am doing as I should have done at the beginning," the King said. "And ending this."  
  
He pulled his sword from its sheath, the blade shining bright in the sunlight trickling in from the windows. He flicked his head to the side, and the guards flanking him moved forward and grabbed Carlos's arms, pulling back and away from Cecil, who gasped as Carlos's fingers accidentally yanked at his hair. He choked out a soft approximation of Carlos's name, and Carlos struggled to pull away from the guards that held fast to his arms.  
  
"What are you doing?!" Carlos demanded. "Wait, stop!"  
  
His father did not acknowledge him, turning instead to face Cecil. He flicked his wrist at him.

"Turn him over." He barked.  
  
The guards holding Cecil roughly pulled him back and onto his knees, before they twisted him around and slammed him back against the floor. They pressed against his shoulders again, kneeling on his arms to keep him down, while another guard held down his legs. Cecil stared up at the King, his breath coming in terrified gasps, and Carlos could see that he was trembling. It made Carlos’s heart seize painfully, to see that look on Cecil’s face. He couldn’t bear it.  
  
The King moved to stand over him once more, this time standing above his head. Carlos watched in horror, his heart stopping in his chest, as his father raised the sword with both hands, the blade pointing downwards, the tip directly over Cecil's heart.  
  
With a start, Carlos realized what his father intended. He pulled and twisted in the grasps of the guards that held him, trying desperately to get away, to get to Cecil, to stop the horrible deed that was about to be done.  
  
"Father, wait!" He pleaded, not caring how desperate and weak he sounded. "Please don't do this! Please don't--don't kill him, please, Father! Punish me instead! Don’t hurt him!"  
  
"Silence!" The King snapped, snarling at his son furiously. "You will be still as I do what must be done! For the good of Vail, and for the good of its future! Let this be a lesson to you of what you must do for the good of your kingdom!"  
  
He raised the sword higher, and Carlos felt as though time had begun to slow down. His heart pounded in his chest, panic threatening to topple every semblance of balance, of stability inside of him. Tears streaked down his face as Cecil turned his terrified blue eyes towards him, begging, pleading with him to help him, to save him. Carlos felt his heart _break_ , and he heaved, kicked, tried everything he could to get away from the men holding him back, to get to Cecil, to stop this, save the man that he knew to be the kind, wonderful prince he was, and not the monster others made him out to be.  
  
"Father, _please_ ," he sobbed. "Don't do this! Punish me! Please, I lo--"  
  
Before he could even consider what it was he was about to admit, his father lowered the sword, thrusting it deep into Cecil's chest. The Noctis prince’s eyes, still looking at Carlos, went completely and utterly lifeless as blood poured from the gaping wound.  
  
Carlos _screamed_.

  
  
\-----

  
  
Carlos awoke screaming. He sat upright in the tangle of sheets around him, heaving for breath as though he had just run from some ferocious beast, his hands fisted so tightly in the champagne sheets his knuckles were white. Sweat poured down his face onto his neck and down his back, plastering his nightshirt to his sticky skin, and his cheeks were wet with half dried tears.  
  
He ran a hand through his hair, clutching at his curls, and he noticed that he was shaking, badly. His pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead; he tried to instill a mantra within his racing thoughts that it was just a dream, only a dream, a horrible, horrible dream...  
  
Something shifted in the bed next to him, and Carlos turned his head to find Cecil curled into a ball, still slumbering peacefully despite Carlos's shout, bathed in moonlight, his handsome face serene, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Carlos felt a huge rush of relief course through him, as though he had been struck by a tidal wave of cold water, at the sight, and he choked on the sob that tried to force its way out of his throat.  
  
Seeing the Noctis prince nestled close beside him, and not pressed into the floor, a sword thrust into his heart, Carlos felt like crying, this time with joy at the sight of Cecil, alive and well, beside him. He reached out one of his shaking hands and laid it against Cecil's shoulder, as though to make sure that he was really real, really there, to reaffirm that it had, indeed, been just a nightmare, and sighed with relief when his hand met warmth, and not the cold stillness that was associated with death. Cecil stirred slightly, and Carlos's thumb rubbed gentle circles into his skin until he quieted again.  
  
Carlos swallowed the lump that had formed at the back of his throat. He hadn't felt that kind of terror, that kind of pain, that kind of feeling of utter hopelessness since the day his mother had perished in that stable fire, and he had been unable to save her. He remembered the fear in Cecil's eyes as he had looked to Carlos for help, and the pure and unfiltered trust that had gone into his gaze, and despite it not being real, Carlos felt ashamed that he had not done more, not fought harder to save him. He felt that he did not deserve that trust.  
  
But it was so much more than that; now that Carlos had experienced life with him, he wasn't sure he wanted to consider life without him. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to go back to sleeping in a bed all alone, to studying in the library without the companionable silence Cecil provided, to having no one with which he could connect, and share. He wasn't sure he could. Losing Cecil would undoubtedly lead to him losing himself. He was certain of that now.  
  
Careful not to wake the other man, Carlos slowly lowered back onto the bed, stretching out alongside Cecil, and reached out to wrap his arms tightly around him, pulling him close to his chest. Cecil made a small, contented sound at the action, and Carlos felt the affection swell once more throughout his entire body. He buried his face in Cecil's hair, inhaling the prince's scent, finally allowing himself to breathe. He gently slipped a hand beneath Cecil’s shirt, pressing his palm against the warm skin of Cecil’s chest. Carlos could feel his heart beating steadily, and somehow, Carlos began to feel himself calm to its rhythm, in knowing that the other man was still alive, still breathing, still with him. That he wasn’t alone.  
  
He held Cecil like that for the rest of the night, his hand pressed against his heart, and he did not move until the first rays of dawn called him to the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and fluff. How can you disagree?! 
> 
> It _physically hurt me_ to write Carlos's nightmare. But I promise, cute makeouts are coming. :) 
> 
> Next time: Carlos takes Cecil out to see Vail.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos takes Cecil out to see Vail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took me over a month to produce, but I promise, it was worth the wait. :) It's hella fluffy, to offset the angst of the last chapter, and super long to boot (7000+ words!). :) But I also put out the last chapter of another fic I was writing, as well as a smutty Cecearlos fic in the meantime, so those are things that exist. :) 
> 
> Chapter song: "Your Arms Feel Like Home" by 3 Doors Down (This song is this story's theme song! Check it out!)

 

Carlos sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face, and he bent his neck sharply to the side, sighing with relief as it cracked in four places. He exhaled in relief, rubbing a hand over his sore throat, grateful that the bruises that Cecil had sucked there at the beginning of the week were no longer visible. A headache pounded in his ears, like drums in temp, and he groaned as he rubbed the heel of his hand into his left eye, willing the permeating ache to go away.

A soft knock on the door brought him back to his senses, and he snapped out of it as he looked towards it.

“Come in.” He called.

A young maid entered the room, a small platter in her hands with a teapot and cup.

“My apologies for interrupting your studies, your majesty,” she said, curtsying as best she could with her hands occupied. “But I have brought you your afternoon tea.”

Carlos nodded. “No trouble,” he said, sweeping his hand outwardly in welcome. “Please, just leave it here.”

The maid nodded and quickly crossed the room to set the tea in front of him on the table. He picked up the book he had been studying, and moved it out of the way, making sure it was in no danger of being splashed by the tea as the maid carefully poured it into the teacup. She stirred in a spoonful of honey along with a single sugar cube before she placed the teacup on a saucer and handed it to the prince, who accepted it gratefully.

He sipped at the soothing liquid, smiling when he realized it was the one that tasted of oranges; one of his personal favorites. His throat reveled in the warmth of the tea and the sweetness of the honey as he drank, as it was still sore and slightly ragged from having awoken late in the night screaming. As he drank, the maid busied herself by poking at the unlit logs of the fireplace, making sure that they were still solid enough to light again that night, and if not, remove them and have one of the male servants fetch a new log from the yard. Carlos wished he could remember her name; she was a pretty young thing, relatively new to the castle staff, with dark hair that she had braided off to one side and bright hazel eyes. She smiled politely at him as she continued to tidy up the area, pulling a rag from her dress pocket to wipe the dust from the mantel.

Carlos sighed as he finished the cup of tea with another gulp, and he sat it back on its saucer on the table. The maid looked up.

“Would you like another cup, your majesty?” She asked.

Carlos shook his head. “No, thank you.” He said. “I’m afraid I find myself a bit distracted this afternoon, and am unable to find the patience to sit back and enjoy it without dozing off. I thank you for bringing it.”

The maid nodded, and Carlos saw her bite her lip as she hesitantly crossed the room.

“Are you feeling alright, your majesty?” She asked quietly. “You look ill. Shall I fetch the physician?”

Carlos shook his head again. “That won’t be necessary. I am simply suffering from a bought of sleeplessness. It is harmless, and I am sure it will be easily remedied this evening.”

The maid looked apprehensive again, before she swallowed.

"Permission to speak, your majesty?"

"Of course." Carlos consented, nodding.

"There have been rumors circulating through the castle. Of you and the visiting Prince of Noctis...having relations. If I may be so bold to say so, sire, perhaps if you didn't spend so much time with him...you'd sleep better?"

Carlos swallowed around the angry retort in his throat, a flare of irritation surging through his tired veins, and he frowned, glaring at the maid before him. Her eyes widened slightly as she recognized his anger.

"You speak too freely." He said sharply, and the maid lowered her head.

"Forgive me, your majesty," she said quickly, curtsying low. "I meant no disrespect."

"What happens between Prince Cecil and I is our business," he informed her. "You'll do well to remember that, and advise others to do the same."

"Yes, your majesty." She curtsied again.

He nodded, and waved a hand towards the door. "Leave me."

She quickly bowed her head, and gathered his empty teacup onto the tray, and hurried from the room.

Carlos watched her go, and sighed as he buried his face in his hands. He scarcely cared if the help gossiped; they would do as they did, and he suddenly felt the tingle of guilt settling in his stomach at the harsh tone he had taken with the girl; after all, he had always felt uneasy whenever his father had treated any of the help the least bit austerely. But Carlos couldn't stand the idea of people speaking poorly of Cecil when they knew nothing about him, simply because of who he was and where he was from.

"You seem troubled." Came a deep voice from the corner. Carlos's head snapped up to find Cecil standing in the doorway, smiling. He was dressed in his usual tunic and pants, but he was barefoot, his sandals missing.

Carlos gave the prince as small smile as he crossed the room to stand next on him.

"I didn't sleep well." He admitted tiredly.

"Oh dear," Cecil frowned. "Was I talking in my sleep again?"

Carlos shook his head. "No, though I'm sure that is thoroughly amusing."

"Then what ails you?"

Carlos sighed. "Nothing," he lied. "I just couldn't stay asleep is all, and now I am fighting to remain awake."

A gentle hand rested on his back, rubbing soothingly across his shoulder blades.

"My poor Carlos," Cecil murmured, so softly Carlos was certain he wasn't meant to hear it. His heart flipped in his chest at the simple word that denoted possession.

"That feels really good." Carlos said softly.

"Here," Cecil said, taking Carlos's hands and pulling him gently towards the edge of the chair. "Let me get behind you."

Carlos moved to accommodate Cecil's request, sitting with his hands between his knees, hunched over slightly. Cecil climbed into the chair behind him, and placed his hands on his shoulders. He hitched his thumbs into the aching and tight muscles and rubbed downwards into them, rolling them like rosary beads between his fingers. Carlos moaned quietly as Cecil expertly massaged the knots from Carlos's shoulders.

"There?" Cecil asked, rubbing into a particularly hard knot. Carlos groaned and nodded. "You carry a lot of stress on your shoulders."

Carlos smirked. "I'm a future king; it comes with the crown."

Cecil clucked his tongue. "Still, a good king must also remember to put himself first on occasion. If he cannot take care of himself, he certainly cannot expect to care for a kingdom."

"Mmm, you're right." Carlos agreed, leaning into Cecil's touches. His back felt significantly better, and he couldn’t deny that even Cecil’s very presence was enough to relax him.

"Of course I am!" Cecil chuckled. "As a future king myself, I know these things."

Carlos turned his upper body around in the seat, grinning slyly.

"Besides, why do I need to care for myself when I have you?" He said lowly.

Cecil pushed at him playfully, but his smile was enough to light the entire room. Carlos felt another surge of warmth radiate forward, and suddenly he was overcome with the desire to push Cecil into the back of the chair, kiss him senseless, press his thigh between Cecil's legs and grind against him, catching the mewls and gasps of pleasure with his tongue to keep Cecil quiet as he came undone…

Just as suddenly, the memory of his nightmare came back at full force, and in an instant, that desire was replaced with cold fear as he remembered his father's threat to remove Cecil should they get caught giving into illicit affairs again. He swallowed and shook his head, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Cecil's mouth before he stood to his feet.

"Carlos?" Cecil asked, blinking, confusion etched into his voice and face. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine." Carlos answered quickly - too quickly - before he sighed. "It's just...nothing."

Cecil blinked again, and for a moment looked like he was about to ask again, but nodded instead.

"Alright then." He said slowly. He looked at the books and scrolls laid out on the desk in front of them, and his eyes brightened in curiosity.

"What are you studying?"

"Geography." Carlos explained. "Of Vail."

“Oh!” Cecil smoothed a hand over one of the maps, easing the curls from the parchment. “Where are we on this map?”

Carlos chuckled, and he pointed to a section near the coast. “The castle is here. It is the central hub of Vail, because it is closest to the best porting system. The rest of the coast is rocky with shoals and reefs.”

Cecil’s eyes glittered as he looked at him. “We’re close to the ocean, then?” He asked.

Carlos nodded. “Yes. It’s about a quarter hour’s ride from here.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean.” Cecil said, and Carlos noticed the note of whimsy in his tone. “Noctis is landlocked, with Pine Ridge and Coronis surrounding us, except the very small corner of Vail, of course.”

Carlos nodded. “Of course.” He agreed.

“What does the ocean look like?” Cecil asked. “My uncle has a cabin on a lake in the mountains of Noctis, and I used to spend every summer there as a child, but I have never laid eyes on a body of water any larger than that.”

“Well, it’s vast. Larger than any imagination could dare conjure. As large and vast as the horizon that greets its edge, and it’s both terrifying and absolutely breathtaking at the same time.”

Cecil leant forward, as though they were sharing a secret between the two of them, his eyes wide and sparkling with enthrallment, silently urging Carlos to tell him more.

“Down on the strip of sand next to the docks are a collection of tide pools.” Carlos continued. “They’re beautiful. Sometimes, you can find starfish and little fish that have gotten left behind by the high tide. Then there are the boarding docks, and the fishing docks, where the ships can port for cargo exchange and reloading. There is a cave farther down the beach that floods during high tide, so sometimes during low tide you can find shells and other little treasures there, and my siblings and I used to pretend that a fearsome sea beast used to use it as a nest. It was wonderful fun. My mother especially loved going down there, and watching the sunset with us.”

Cecil sighed happily. “It sounds wonderful.”

Carlos nodded. He was about to tell Cecil about the family of dolphins he once saw swimming a few years back when a thought suddenly struck him.

“Well, why don’t you decide for yourself?” He said before he could even consider what it was he was saying. “I must meet with my language tutor tomorrow as always, but afterwards, I do not have any other commitments.”

“Really?!” Cecil absolutely lit up like a flame in winter.

Carlos shrugged, noting the heaviness that had settled across them again despite the massage Cecil had given him. “Why not? If our kingdoms are truly to enter an alliance, would it not be prudent for you, as our future ally, to know the land of which you are about to become aligned with?”

“I suppose you’re correct.” Cecil agreed, nodding. He smiled again. “So you’ll take me out to see Vail?” The hope was impossible to miss in that spectacular voice.

Carlos smiled back and nodded. “I would like that.”

“Neat!” Cecil squeaked, his voice going up a full octave, and a look of horror crossed his face before he covered it with his hands, groaning. Carlos chuckled.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“ _Neat._ ” Cecil answered, the mortification evident in his voice. The tips of his ears were red with embarrassment. “Oh that was _bad._ Gods, I am— _neat,_ Cecil, really?! Ugh!”

Carlos laughed. “What’s so wrong with neat?”

“Just kill me now.” Cecil grumbled from behind his hands. “I’m going to die of absolute humiliation.”

“I can see it now,” Carlos said, laying a hand over his heart dramatically. “Here lies Prince Cecil Palmer of Noctis. He died as he lived: absolutely adorable.”

Cecil peeked out between his fingers. “And sexy?”

“Very.” Carlos confirmed, taking hold of Cecil’s wrists and lowering his hands gently. He kissed him, his thumbs rubbing smooth circles into Cecil’s knuckles. He pulled away and peered into Cecil’s bright blue eyes, and he felt the strange fluttering sensation return to his stomach. Cecil smiled, and he felt the fluttering turn into a full jab at his chest, warm and aching, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Cecil turned his hands, fitting his fingers through Carlos’s, and Carlos’s gaze dropped to look at their joined hands, Cecil’s light skin contrasting so starkly against his dark, and he raised Cecil’s hand and kissed it. 

“You are, quite possibly, one of the most interesting people I have ever met.” He said softly, his breath ghosting over Cecil’s knuckles. “And believe me when I say that I enjoy every second of getting to know you.”

Cecil blushed deeply once more, biting his bottom lip to try and contain the smile that was spreading across his face. Carlos squeezed his hand.

“I do still have a tactical exam I must study for.” Carlos lamented quietly. “My father would probably go into a fit of mania if I failed. He would likely blame you, and I would like to avoid that, if possible.”

He didn’t tell him about the vision of those blue eyes, sightless, turned towards him in search of salvation. He couldn’t.  

“Oh! Yes, of course.” Cecil said, nodding. “And perhaps have the servants fetch us a pot of lavender tea? Lavender is naturally soothing, and aids in concentration, you know.”

Carlos chuckled. “Of course.” He said, still holding Cecil’s hand in his own. “I think it’s quickly on its way to becoming my new favorite.”

\-----

 

Early the next morning, after a restful night’s sleep, and a morning spent with his language teacher – who informed him that his Latin was nearly flawless – Carlos snuck into the kitchens to pocket a few of the sweet rolls and a poppyseed muffin before he made his way back towards his room, where Cecil was still sleeping soundly where Carlos had left him in his nest of sheets. He was laying on his back this time, one arm stretched out above him while the other rested on his abdomen, his mouth slightly agape as he breathed softly, and Carlos could not help but smile at the sight of him.

He very carefully leant over the other prince, and kissed his forehead.

“Cecil,” he whispered against the warm skin. “Cecil, it’s time to wake up.”

Cecil’s forehead crinkled in disagreement, and Carlos chased them away with another kiss.

“Come on, Cecil.” He said. “Please? I brought you breakfast! We need to leave soon, so that we have the day.”

Cecil frowned again, but his blue eyes blinked open blearily, and his expression softened as a small smile graced his face as he caught sight of Carlos above him.

“Good morning.” Carlos whispered as he bent to kiss him.

“Good morning.” Cecil echoed. He sat up in the bed and stretched, yawning widely as he did so, before he let his arms flop onto the sheets around him as he smiled dreamily back at Carlos, who sat on the edge of the bed. “Sleep well?”

Carlos nodded. “Much better than the night before.” He said. He handed Cecil the poppyseed muffin and one of the sweet rolls. “Here; we’ll eat more once we get into town.”

Cecil plucked off a corner of the muffin, and popped it into his mouth while Carlos nibbled on the sweet roll he had grabbed for himself. They ate in relative silence for a few minutes until Cecil leaned over and kissed Carlos’s cheek.

“Thank you for breakfast.” He said. His eyes were wide with excitement as he pulled away, and crawled to the edge of the bed to hug Carlos around the middle from behind, laying his head against his shoulder. Carlos smiled and brought a hand to lay it over Cecil’s clasped ones, and the two of them sat there for a few moments, lost in the touch of one another, before Cecil released him and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Should I…wear anything special?” He asked, his voice suddenly worried as he looked back at Carlos, who wore a simple blue shirt over plain pants. “I mean, I brought one of my formal tunics with me, but I was saving that one for the day after tomorrow…”

Carlos shook his head. “No, nothing special.” He assured him. “Today we are one with the people of Vail. There is no need for finery.”

Cecil smiled and nodded, pecking Carlos on the cheek again before he turned and walked towards the door.

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” He said. “I’ll be right back.”

Carlos shook his head fondly as he watched him go, practically bouncing on his feet he was so excited. He pushed himself onto his feet and poked his head out into the hallway, calling for a guard, who emerged, seemingly out of nowhere, a few moments later. Carlos instructed him to gather a team of three others and prepare a carriage immediately to carry them into town. The guard, though looking slightly perplexed, did not ask questions, instead bowing respectfully and jogging down the hall towards the stables.

A few moments later, Cecil returned, his hair slightly mussed and damp, dressed in the tunic from the previous day and a new pair of dark plumb pants underneath. His sandals were swinging from his hand as he walked up to Carlos, who grinned at him.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

Cecil nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” He squeaked. Carlos smiled endearingly at him as he offered him his arm, which Cecil eagerly took. He could practically feel the excitement radiating from the other man as they walked down the hall towards the garden, and then towards the stables. He glanced at Cecil out the corner of his eye, and caught his eye. Cecil blushed and looked away.

Just as he had instructed, a simple carriage awaited them next to the stables, with two guards on horseback and one at the reins of the carriage. Carlos opened the door to the carriage and gestured for Cecil to climb in, before he followed suit. After they were seated comfortably inside, across from one another, the carriage jolted forward.

Cecil’s eyes were wide as saucers as they rode through the side gate of the castle, and began the journey down the dirt road that would lead them into the depths of town. He watched the passing scenery – mostly countryside, as the castle was not in the center of the town, as was usually expected, due to the city moving more and more towards the ocean as time had gone on, allowing for the royal family to rule in serenity and privacy, while not being too far from the capital – but it was lovely, nonetheless, and Carlos felt a swell of pride for his kingdom as Cecil surveyed it, pointing excitedly to a small cluster of poplar trees, where a flock of birds flew overhead before landing in the branches.

His thoughts were interrupted as one of the guards riding on horseback outside the carriage pulled up close to the window.

“Your majesty, is there any particular place you’d like us to stop?” The guard asked.

“Take us to the cliff side, if you would.” Carlos instructed. “We’d like to see the ocean. We will meet you in the center of town closer to four o’clock so that we may be back at the castle at a reasonable hour.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The guard nodded, and relayed the message to the guard driving the carriage before he resumed his position behind the carriage.

“Will we get to see any of the city?” Cecil asked. “I’d like to see the capital of Vail…”

“Of course.” Carlos said. “The city is set up as a large circle. The inner ring are the small businesses, such as the shops and bakeries, while the outer ring is mostly farmland and our vineyard. The city extends outward towards an outcropping of land that steeps off into a sandy beach by the seaports and docks. Would you rather wait to see the ocean after we’ve stopped for lunch?”

Cecil nodded, almost sheepishly.

“As much as I’d like to see the ocean…I’d also like to spend time there. So if we could explore the city first…”

Carlos smiled and nodded. “I understand.” He leaned over and stuck his head out the window. “Set the course for the town square!” He addressed the driver. “If you wouldn’t mind!”

“Yes, your majesty!” The driver called back.

Cecil smiled. “Thank you.”

Carlos leaned over and pressed a kiss to the middle of Cecil’s forehead.

He let it linger longer than was absolutely necessary.

 

\-----

 

Carlos was quick to leave the town square behind him and give Cecil a proper tour of Vail, including the little alcove of shops that he and his mother had frequented when he was a child, in particular the bookshop. Cecil’s wide blue eyes were practically sparkling as he took everything in, like a rag absorbing water, and Carlos could feel the affection growing warmer in his chest whenever Cecil would catch his eye and give him one of those dazzling smiles.

After a few hours exploring all the nooks and crannies Carlos and his siblings had called their childhood conquests, Carlos finally led the way towards the outskirts of town, towards the outcrop of rocks. As they neared it, the fresh, salty sea breeze wafted through the stale air that surrounded them, carrying with it the scent of the water and the slight tinge of fish, and he sighed deeply as it ruffled his hair and clothes. It had been quite a long time since he himself had been down to the beach, and he couldn’t deny his own excitement for getting to see it once more as Cecil stopped and grabbed his arm.

“It smells wonderful!” He said. “Are we almost there?”

Carlos nodded, and pointed to the edge of the cliff. “Right there.”

He couldn’t contain the smile that crossed his face as he watched Cecil rush ahead of him and stop at the edge, looking out at the ocean below, his eyes aglow with such a spark of wonder that it sent chills down Carlos’s spine.

“Well?” He asked, coming up beside Cecil, his hands behind his back. He searched Cecil’s awestruck face. “What do you think? Is it everything you’d hoped it would be?”

Cecil turned his head and looked at him, and he opened and closed his mouth several times as though to say something, but instead, just shook his head and grinned.

“It’s beautiful.” He said finally. “It’s…it’s so much _more_ than I ever expected.” He suddenly threw himself at Carlos, and for a moment, Carlos was afraid that the two of them would careen down the steep embankment into the sandy beach below, but he managed to steady the both of them, taking a step backwards and away from the edge. “Thank you.”

Carlos hugged Cecil back briefly before he stepped back, taking hold of Cecil’s hand. He tipped his head towards the ocean below.

“Want to get closer?”

Cecil nodded eagerly, and Carlos led him towards the set of wooden steps that had been inlaid in the sandy rocks. They walked down the steep set of stairs until they emerged at the bottom, and Carlos paused for a moment to remove his shoes and roll up his pants’ legs. Cecil removed his sandals, and placed them next to Carlos’s, and followed as Carlos walked towards the waves that lapped at the shore.

Carlos sighed in pleasure as the cold water of the ocean washed over his bare feet. He wiggled his toes in the soft sand as the waves lapped over his feet again, tickling the skin of his ankles. The salty wind felt _amazing_ as it swept through his curls, and Carlos mused that it had been far too long since he had done this. It had been ages since he’d last come to the beach; perhaps he would not feel as stressed as he often did if he allowed himself this simple pleasure more often.

He looked beside him for Cecil, only to find himself standing alone in the tide. He turned and looked back; Cecil was standing a few feet behind him, staring out at the vastness of the ocean’s enormity before him, his eyes blown and indescribably gorgeous as he looked down at the water kissing the sands of the beach.

“Cecil?” Carlos asked, and Cecil seemed to snap out of his reverie. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Cecil said, shaking his head. “It’s just…it’s so…big.”

Carlos grinned and held out a hand. “My mother believed that one has not lived until you have felt the ocean against your skin, a belief I have carried on as my own.” He said. “Come here.”

Cecil bit his bottom lip, but he took Carlos’s hand, and tentatively stepped forward, gingerly stepping into the water. He yelped quietly at the chill, and his hand tightened in Carlos’s, but he grinned like a madman when he turned his head to look at Carlos, and Carlos very nearly told him that he was the most beautiful thing Carlos had ever seen.

 _Very_ nearly.

“Well?” He said, swallowing around the words he wanted so badly to say, but couldn’t bring himself to.

“It’s cold!” Cecil laughed.

“It gets better once you get used to it.” Carlos assured him. He pointed west, to a small dock a little in the distance. “Let’s go out to the dock.”

He kept Cecil’s hand in his as they walked along the shoreline, their feet still in the water, stepping around the occasional jellyfish that had washed up with the tide. Carlos led the way up and onto the dock, and still holding Cecil’s hand, led him to the end.

“When I was a child, my brother, sister and I loved to come out here and dangle our feet in the water.” Carlos said as they looked out over the calm sea. “But mine and my sister’s favorite part were the tide pools. Sometimes little schools of fish get caught in there and will nibble on your toes if you dip them into the water.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

Carlos chuckled. “No, it actually tickles.” He said.

Cecil peered over the edge and side of the dock. “How deep is the water out here?” He asked.

An impish grin slowly made its way across Carlos’s face.

“I’m not sure.” He said. “But there is one way to find out.”

Carlos scooped Cecil into his arms, bridal style, and Cecil gave an indignant yelp. Before the Noctis prince had any time to react, Carlos tossed him into the air, and off of the dock. Cecil landed in the water with a huge splash, his lavender tunic and blond hair still visible beneath the waves.

After a second, Cecil resurfaced, sputtering, his hair plastered to his head, his tunic clinging to him in all the right places. He spit water out of his mouth, coughing, and turned his head to glare up at Carlos, who laughed at the look of betrayal on Cecil’s face.

"Carlos!" He said. "What was that for?!"

"I'm sorry!" Carlos said between laughs. "I couldn't resist!"

"How were you certain I could even swim?" Cecil demanded, swatting at a fish that swam close to him. "I could have drown!"

Carlos shook his head, still grinning. "You're right, I'm sorry." He said. He bent down, kneeling on the dock, and offered Cecil his hand. "I would have saved you of that had been the case, I promise."

"Mm, I'm sure you would." Cecil said as he took Carlos's hand. Carlos saw the mischievous twinkle in his eye a moment too late, and Cecil gave a strong yank on Carlos's arm, and he fell, face first, from the dock into the chilly ocean water. He automatically kicked his feet and pushed himself back above the surface, gasping for lost air, coughing slightly. His hair hung in his eyes, the curls now limp and sticking to his face and neck, and he pushed it out of his eyes as he turned his head and looked at Cecil, who laughed. He grinned.

“Okay, I deserved that.” He admitted.

“Oh, I agree!” Cecil said. “That will teach you to toss your friends off of piers, Prince Carlos!”

Carlos splashed him, still grinning. Cecil splashed him back, and they laughed, still treading the water.

“Let’s get back to the shore and dry off.” Carlos suggested. “We still have a lot to see.”

Cecil nodded, then gave Carlos another sly smile. “Last one to the shore strips first.”

 

\-----

 

Cecil was a surprisingly good swimmer, Carlos found, as he draped his shirt across a large rock so that it could dry in the sun. Cecil had already removed his tunic, once again exposing that chest, seawater running in droplets down the taut skin of his muscles, and Carlos swallowed thickly and forced himself to look away. He left his shirt next to Cecil’s tunic and walked back to where Cecil was sitting on a large rock with his feet dipped in the cool, clear waters of one of the tide pools, his chin resting on his knees as he wrapped his arms underneath them, a placid, contemplative look on his face.

He sat down on the rock next to Cecil, so close that their shoulders were touching, and Cecil sighed at the contact of warm skin against his, but he didn’t look away from the water of the tide pool. A tiny cuttlefish was continuously burying, unburying, and reburying itself in the sand next to Cecil’s big toe as a small starfish lounged lazily on a rock.

“What are you thinking?” He asked after a few more moments of silence, save for the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

“I’m thinking about what will happen after the treaty is signed day after tomorrow.” Cecil said. “How everything seems to be looking up, for both of our kingdoms. Our trades will improve our countries’ economies, our citizens won’t have to continue to fund a war with unnecessary taxes and with young soldiers that should be building a life for themselves. The prosperity this will bring is almost too good to be true, and yet…” He turned his head, laying it against his knees to look at Carlos, almost dreamily. “And yet, it’s actually happening. It is real, and tangible, and within reach. I can hardly believe it.”

Carlos smiled and reached out to gentle rub a hand between Cecil’s shoulder blades, splaying his fingers against the warm, smooth skin there.

“But more than anything…” Cecil continued, a bit softer than before. “I’ll be able to see you again.”

“We will be seeing much of each other, that is a solid truth.” Carlos agreed. “The treaty must still be signed within Noctis, after all. We are only signing the Vail annexation day after tomorrow.”

“I know.” Cecil said. “It’s just…” He smiled, wistfully. “I like it here. And I’m glad that once our countries are allies, I will be permitted to see it again.”

“You will have to give me a tour of Noctis.” Carlos said, turning his head to look back over the ocean. A gull flew overhead and landed on one of the posts of the dock. “I would like very much to see the mountains.”

“We could go out to my uncle’s cabin.” Cecil suggested.

“I’d like that.” Carlos said. “I’d like that very much.”

They remained like that in companionable silence for several more minutes, and Carlos felt that strange fluttering return to his stomach as Cecil wiggled his toe at the little cuttlefish, which swam up and sat on his toenail, his tiny tentacles tickling at Cecil’s skin, and the other prince giggled in response, trying hard not to kick his foot and scare the little creature. Carlos was once again mesmerized by the other prince’s effervescence, the way he just seemed to _exist_ , without actually having to try, the way he glanced at Carlos out of the corner of his eye and blushed just slightly, his boundless idealism. It was the oddest sensation, like everything was complete, everything was wonderful, everything was perfect. And Carlos didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was, but he knew he liked it.

He had never had a best friend growing up, save for his brother and sister. Cecil was the closest he had ever come, but somehow, Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was so much more than that.

 

\-----

 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. After their shirts had dried out, they had walked down the shore to the cave Carlos had told Cecil about, where he, his mother, and his siblings had searched for shells and other treasures when he was younger. Indeed, a few shells found their way into pockets, and some of the round, smooth stones were skipped out over the choppy waves of the ocean, with Cecil even turning it into a game to see who could get the most skips in one go. (Carlos won with a seven skip.)

Eventually, however, the time came for the two of them to make their way back to the mainland, and into the city square, where the carriage that would take them back to the castle awaited them.

“I never want this to end.” Cecil admitted sadly as he wiggled his toes into the cool, water logged sand of the shore after they collected their shoes from where they had left them by the set of stairs, and walked out into the ocean one last time. “This has truly been one of the most magical days of my life.” He turned to look at Carlos, his blue eyes shining. “Thank you. For this.”

Carlos smiled. “You’re welcome.”

As they turned to walk back towards the stairs that would take them back to the mainland, they passed a young man - no older than about fourteen or so - carrying a small bag in one hand. When he saw Carlos approaching, he stopped dead in his tracks and bowed.

"Prince Carlos," he greeted formally.

Carlos nodded to the boy. "Good afternoon." He said back. "What brings you to the waterfront?"

The boy straightened himself back up. He held up the bag, which squirmed in the air.

"Our barn cat had a litter of kittens, but this one's got a blind eye. Useless to us, and we don't need it running around breeding. So Pa sent me out here to drown it."

"Oh, must you drown it?!" Cecil gasped, stepping forward, wringing his hands. He bit his lip, and his eyes were wide and horror struck.

The boy nodded, his eyebrow slightly arched at the sight of the strange man accompanying the Vailian prince without any other company or guards. “’S what Pa said to do.” He explained. “I’m just doing as he said.”

"Can we at least see it?" Cecil asked. “Please?”

The teenager shrugged and opened the bag, pulling the tiniest little ball of black fluff Carlos had ever seen from inside. It squirmed as it was held aloft in the air, tucking into itself protectively. The boy placed the kitten in Cecil's hands. It mewled pitifully, and when it opened its eyes, Carlos could see that the left eye was a clear blue, but the right one was a milky white, clearly completely devoid of sight. Its coat was the deepest shade of black Carlos had ever seen, fluffy and soft, and it was small enough to fit in the palm of Cecil's hand.

Carlos watched as Cecil cradled the kitten in his hands as though it were the most fragile thing in the world, his finger rubbing gentle circles into his head. The kitten purred contentedly, closing both of its eyes, its tiny paws kneading at Cecil's arm.  Cecil cooed softly to the tiny creature, and Carlos was struck with awe at how anyone - especially his father - could think this kind, gentle man a cruel, heartless monster.

All because he was of Noctis.

"I think he likes you," the teenager said.

Carlos smiled. "I think we'll take him with us, if you don't mind," he said softly. "He may be blind in one eye, but I think he'd still be an excellent mouser for our kitchens in the castle. Or, perhaps, a lap cat."

"Of course, your majesty," the young man bowed, and the sound of relief was hard to miss in his cracking voice.  "I wasn't sure I had the heart to drown the poor little mite anyway, but my father was adamant that we get rid of him."

"Tell your father the deed was done," Carlos said. He pulled a silver coin from his pocket and pressed it into the boy's palm. "And thank him for his service."

The boy's face lit up, and he bowed.

"Yes, your majesty."

Carlos nodded. “Off you go, then.”

The boy bowed one last time before he turned and scurried back the way he had come.

Cecil's eyes were shining as he cupped the kitten close to his chest. The tiny cat yawned sleepily, and nestled down into Cecil's palm, purring quietly. Cecil continued to stroke his head with a fingertip, smoothing down the downy fur.

"He's so tiny." He said softly as they once again walked towards the mainland.

"He's fairly young to be away from his mother." Carlos agreed, peaking at the kitten. "I'll have the cooks get us a cup of warm milk when we return to the castle. You can feed him with a rag."

"Poor little thing," Cecil shook his head. "He can't help that he's blind in one eye. He didn't deserve to die. Something so innocent doesn't deserve that."

Carlos pressed his hand to the small of Cecil's back, remembering his nightmare from two days before.

"No, you're right." He said.

Cecil turned to look at him, his blue eyes wide and grateful.

"Thank you." He said. "For saving him, I mean."

Carlos smiled and tipped Cecil's face towards his with his hand. He kissed him, gently, before pulling away to look into those eyes.

"Anything to see you smile like that." He said softly, his breath ghosting over Cecil’s lips.

Cecil blushed furiously and ducked his head, going back to petting the kitten. The two princes walked in silence until they reached the mainland.

"He's going to need a name." Carlos said, tipping his head at the slumbering little beast.

"Hmm..." Cecil looked thoughtful. "Well, what would you name him?"

Carlos laughed. "I should never be given that kind of power." He shook his head. "Where do you think Muffin got his name?"

Cecil grinned. "I wondered." He was silent for a moment, studying the kitten in his arms. The kitten had settled into the crook of his elbow, his little paws tucked underneath him, his tiny ears flicking.

"I think I'll call him Khoshekh." He said finally.

"Khoshekh, huh?" Carlos asked, trying out the name. It was almost ashy in texture as it rolled from his tongue. "That's interesting. Does it have a meaning?"

"I believe it translates to "darkness" in Hebrew," Cecil explained.

"Ah. Very befitting of a black cat." Carlos agreed. He reached out and scratched the kitten on the head with a single finger. "Well, hello then, Khoshekh."

Khoshekh blinked blearily up at him, yawning. Carlos chuckled as he snuggled back into the crook of Cecil's elbow.

As they walked, he felt a warm palm slide against his, and he smiled as he tightened his fingers around Cecil's.  He didn't care who saw them, or what they had to say about it; Cecil's hand felt magnificent in his. None of the people that they passed on their way back towards the center of town seemed to notice the two princes as they walked together, or if they did, they did not outwardly acknowledge their joined hands, until, as they passed by the sweet shop at the edge of downtown, they passed Hans and Luce Gutierrez, also walking along the curb of the road, and Hans smiled knowingly as he gave his prince a small nod. Carlos gave a nod in return, and squeezed Cecil’s hand just a little bit tighter in his own.

Finally, they emerged back into the city square, where the guards and the coach awaited them patiently, just as they had been instructed. They opened the door for the prince of Vail to enter the coach, and Carlos hoisted himself into the seat before he reached out to held Cecil do the same with the kitten in his arms. Cecil sat down next to Carlos this time, so close that the skin of their arms brushed, tickling at the hair there. As the carriage jolted forward, Carlos placed his hand on Cecil’s knee, and Cecil leant his head against Carlos’s shoulder.

Not a word was spoken, but Carlos was finding that he needed words less and less when he was with Cecil. And somehow, he was beginning to think that maybe, Cecil felt the same way.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based little Khoshekh after my best friend Tristan's real life Khoshekh, whom he adopted/rescued over the summer from the Ann Arbor humane society. He's pure black, and the sweetest boy EVER. :) It's also incredibly befitting that Tristan named him Khoshekh, because it does, indeed, mean "darkness" in Hebrew. I'd say that's a good name for a black cat! :D 
> 
> Also, in case you missed it, I gave a little nudge towards Hannah and Lucy Gutierrez in this chapter by using Rule 63 and making them Hans and Luce. :) I thought it was a fun twist. :) 
> 
> Next time: Cecil gets drunk, and the King must come to a decision regarding the future of his son.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil ponders his feelings for the Prince of Vail, and finds solace in a bottle of ale. Meanwhile, on the eve of the signing of the peace treaty, the King of Vail ponders the future of his kingdom, and the future of his son's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the two month wait; this semester hasn't been easy in the slightest. Between four classes, I've had six exams in the last two months, along with around ten quizzes, and two HUGE papers to write, as well as signing on to do a research project with a friend, so I apologize. 
> 
> Also, I wrote "Worst Fear Wednesday," and I'm currently working on a Marcus Vansten/Jake fic that I hope people will enjoy. So look for that one very soon! 
> 
> CHAPTER SONG(s): "Immortals" by Fall Out Boy, "Name" by Goo Goo Dolls, and "All That I'm Asking For" by Lifehouse

Cecil was awakened in the middle of the night feeling like he had just run a race in a desert. His throat was dry and sore, his mouth parched and tasting slightly metallic, and he grazed the tip of his tongue across the back of his teeth; he was definitely in need of a drink of water.

He groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows, blearily blinking into the inky darkness of Carlos’s bedroom, the fireplace in the corner long since extinguished. Carlos’s arm was draped over him, almost lazily, as he slept peacefully. Cecil smiled fondly as he pushed an errant curl from Carlos’s forehead; he was always beautiful in stature and form, but when he slept, bathed in the faint light of the moon filtering in through the panes of glass in the window, his dark skin velvety and perfect, he was absolutely stunning. Cecil dared a glance at the small basket Carlos had gotten for Khoshekh to sleep in off the side of the bed; his tiny kitten was slumbering peacefully in the nest of rags. He sighed in relief.

Cecil swallowed, wincing at the pull of it against his parched esophagus, and carded his fingers through Carlos’s hair for a moment, just watching him sleep.

Cecil knew he was in love with the prince of Vail. He had known it from the moment he had first laid eyes on him in the hallway in Coronis. It had been instantaneous, insatiable, and absolutely irrevocable in its intensity, and Cecil knew he was absolutely powerless to stop it. It had never been anything less than pure, consummate love. And with each passing day, it only grew stronger.

Cecil wasn’t stupid. He knew that the chances of being able to actually _be_ with the Vailian prince were slim to none; from what he had garnished from his interactions with the King over the course of the last few days, Cecil knew that he would never permit it. Cecil had the sneaking suspicion that as soon as the treaty was signed the day after next, the King would find some reason to have him escorted from Vail immediately, whether Carlos liked it, or not.

But Cecil couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Carlos was falling in love with him, too. Cecil was not blind; he had seen the looks the other man had been giving him since his arrival. They were so gentle, so soft and warm that Cecil wanted to curl into them forever, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and never have to leave the security it offered him again. He had said when Cecil had first arrived in Vail, after they had made love – Carlos had said it was more than sex with him, so he supposed it was safe to call it lovemaking –  that he worried about the citizens of Vail judging Cecil based on the fact that he was the prince and soul heir to the throne of Noctis, and that he did not want the people to judge him before they knew him.

But _was_ he in love with Cecil, as Cecil was with him? He had never been anything but tender in his affections, always, it seemed, happy to hold his hand or kiss him. It made Cecil’s heart break at the thought that perhaps it was not as he suspected, that it was purely situational, an experiment, fleeting. The thought of Carlos holding another’s hand, touching another as gently as he touched Cecil, of looking at another as he sometimes did when he thought Cecil wasn’t looking made Cecil feel sick with pain.

Could it truly be possible for Carlos to be in love with him too?

Carlos shifted slightly in his sleep, turning his head to bury his face into his pillow and Cecil smiled fondly as his arm tightened around Cecil’s torso. Gently he eased himself out from underneath the Vailian prince’s arm, before he eased himself off of the bed. He tiptoed to the door as quietly as he could, the cobblestones cool beneath his bare feet, and he turned the handle of the door slowly before slipping out into the dark hallway.

He quietly made his way down the stairs towards the kitchens, where he knew the water pump was located, and grabbed the ladle of the dipper from the bucket beneath the spigot. The water was lukewarm, hardly cold in the warm room of the kitchens, but it satiated his thirst nonetheless, and Cecil sighed with relief.

As he replaced the dipper to the bucket, his elbow knocked a glass bottle that sat on the counter next to the pump. Cecil reached out and grabbed it before it could topple to the floor and shatter, steadying it, the amber liquid inside sloshing against the sides. Frowning, Cecil picked up the bottle and brought it to his nose, sniffing the contents.

It was pungent, and familiar, and Cecil recognized it as ale. One of the help must have left this here after having served it to the King at dinner. Or, perhaps, it was a personal bottle.

Cecil grinned.

One drink couldn’t hurt…

 

\-----

 

Carlos wasn’t sure what woke him; perhaps it was the niggling feeling that something was not quite _right_ , or perhaps it was nothing at all, but when he opened his eyes to the darkness of his bedroom, he found that he was alone, the side of the bed that Cecil had occupied empty, the sheets cold.

“Cecil?” He asked groggily, sitting up in the bed. He rubbed his eyes, yawning deeply. “Cecil, are you there?”

There was no answer. Cecil was not in the room.

Frowning, Carlos threw the covers from his body and sat his feet on the floor. He dared a glance at the little basket he had procured for Khoshekh on the floor, wondering if the Noctis prince had gotten up to feed him, but found the little black kitten curled up peacefully, sound asleep.

Perhaps he had gotten up to use the lavatory? Or perhaps he had moved to the room he was supposed to be using down the hall?

Carlos ran a hand through his hair as he stood and made his way towards the – slightly ajar, he realized – door. He walked the short distance down the hall to the guest room that had been given to Cecil, and knocked on the door.

“Cecil?” He asked quietly. “Are you in there?”

When no one answered, Carlos’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was far too late at night for him to even attempt to contemplate properly. He knocked again.

“Cecil?” He said, a bit louder. “Are you in there?”

Again, nothing. Carlos put his hand on the doorknob and turned it, opening the door slowly.

“Cecil?”

The room was empty, just as the sheets in the bed next to him had been.

Carlos startled to attention, as though he had suddenly been doused with cold water. His eyes frantically scanned around the room in the hopes that perhaps the Noctic prince was hiding somewhere in the shadows, but he found absolutely no trace of the other prince. He turned back into the hallway, his mind alert, his heart racing. Where could Cecil possibly have gone at this time of night?!

Every conceivable scenario soared through Carlos’s brain at once. Had Cecil left of his own volition, or had he been forced? Was he hurt? Had it been his father, convinced that he and Cecil were still having relations behind closed doors? Had it been a disgruntled Vailian, come to do away with the Noctis influence?

“Cecil!” He called quietly, so as to not alert any of the castle guards, or worse, his father. “Cecil, can you hear me?”

There was no answer, just the summer wind blowing through the curtains of the hallway windows gently. Despite the warmth of the breeze, it sent a chill down Carlos’s spine, and he pressed forward, towards the stairs that would take him to the ground level. His heart pounded in his chest, like a drum calling men to war, and he fought against the panic he could feel rising in the back of his throat.

“Cecil!” He hissed in the dark as his feet hit the floor of the ground level. “Cecil, answer me!”

It was then he heard it. It was faint, like a distant wolf howling at the moon, and Carlos wasn’t sure, exactly, just what it was he was hearing, but he heard it nonetheless. It sounded like singing, and it was coming from the direction of the throne room.

Carlos very slowly made his way down the hall towards the throne room, thankful that his bare feet made no sound on the plush rug that ran the length of the hallway. He kept close to the wall, prepared to snatch up a candelabra from one of the tables should the need to defend himself arise. As he drew closer to the ajar door at the far end of the hall, the singing grew louder, and he could make out the words to what he realized was a sailor shanty, the words slightly muffled and slurred.

Cautiously, he stepped into the darkness of the throne room. Moonlight filtered in through the large windows inlaid in the walls, casting an ethereal glow throughout the entire room, settling with absolute perfection upon his father’s throne. The throne upon which a shadowy figure sat, draped sideways in it, its legs hanging over one arm rest, and its neck the other.

It didn’t take Carlos very long to realize it was Cecil.

“Oh! Wha do ya do wi’ a drunken sailor? Earleh in tha mornin’!” He sang, rather loudly. Carlos quirked an eyebrow as he tried to decipher just what it was Cecil was singing, exactly. He could see that Cecil was clearly into the shanty he was singing, as he was kicking his feet in the air and waving his arms up and above his head from where it was hanging off the armrest, and he giggled as he continued to sing, horribly off-key and rather loudly. He raised something in his left hand to his mouth, tipping it back, and Carlos could see it was a bottle in the dim moonlight.

Well. That explained Cecil’s erratic behavior.

“Cecil?” Carlos whispered as he neared the throne, setting a hand on Cecil’s shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

"Ca'los!" Cecil slurred, grinning up at him in the darkness of the throne room from where he was draped over the King's throne. "Di'ja know? Yer dad's throne is really cushy. Soft. Kinna bouncy."

Carlos frowned as he reached out and took the bottle of ale from Cecil's hand. It was almost completely emptied, with only a small amount left at the bottom.

"Cecil, did you drink all of this?"

Cecil nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!" He popped the 'p' and fell into a fit of giggles. "'S good."

Carlos shook his head. “In moderation, perhaps.” He said. "But you are drunk."

"Nah drunk! Jus tipsy!" Cecil insisted, his brow furrowing slightly. (Adorably, if Carlos was being honest.)

"You're drunk, and you're currently laying across my father's throne. If he caught you here like this, he'd have your head!"

Cecil frowned. "I don' like your dad. He doesn't like me." He said, a bit bitterly. “

Carlos grimaced, and he nodded slowly. "No, he doesn't." He agreed.

"But you do!" Cecil broke out into a grin. "I know you do! I like the way you look at me, when ya think I'm nah lookin'."

Carlos smiled as he leant over to brush back Cecil's blond hair. Cecil practically purred at the action, closing his eyes and pressing into Carlos’s touch.

"Yes, I like you." He granted softly, rubbing his thumb along Cecil’s brow. "I am _quite_ fond of you. And because I like you, I don't want my father going into fits about you getting drunk and throwing up all over the throne room."

"Nah gonna throw up." Cecil insisted. “Jus tipsy. Nah gonna throw up.”

"We should still get you into bed." Carlos said, and he wrapped his arm around Cecil's shoulders, guiding him into an upright sitting position. “Come on.”

Cecil hummed agreeably. "Mmm, bed. You have sex with me in bed."

Carlos could hear the suggestive tone in Cecil's slurred voice as clear as thunder, and he could feel the blush as it spread across his cheeks. His father’s threat still hung heavily in the air, like a sword from a string, and while he could feel the coils of desire beginning to unfurl in his stomach, the heavy weight of fear quickly quelled it. 

"Cecil," he said, sternly, though he could feel the edges of his bravado sinking. Cecil really did look gorgeous looking up at him with half-lidded blue eyes, with that sultry smile across his face, and he remembered their first encounter in the library in Coronis with stunning clarity. “Cecil, come on.”

"Wha? Don' you wanna?" Cecil purred, shakily standing to his feet, his hands gripping Carlos's sleeping shirt near the collar. "We did it in a library once. How 'bout we try it 'ere? On the throne? Tha throne is...comfy." Cecil giggled and looked at Carlos seductively. “We haven’ done an’thing for _days_ now, Carlos. Do you wanna?”

Carlos opened his mouth to reply, when Cecil suddenly cut him off by pressing his lips feverishly to his. Carlos, caught off guard by the action, fell back into his father's throne, the throne he would someday rule all of Vail upon. Cecil continued to kiss him as he straddled Carlos's lap, grinding his hips against his, moaning into Carlos’s mouth wantonly. Jolts of desire lit up like sparks from a flint in Carlos's body, and he couldn't contain the small moan that escaped as Cecil gave a particularly artful thrust against him, and Carlos felt himself instantly respond.

Oh holy Lord, he wanted to. He wanted to _so badly_. He wanted to give in, and let Cecil do whatever he wanted right there on his father’s throne. The other prince’s weight was heavenly against his lap, grounding, and Carlos found his hands gripping Cecil’s hips as a moan escaped from his throat against his better judgment.

"You wan’ top or bottom?" Cecil whispered in his ear, nipping at it. "I ha' top las' time."

He ground himself against Carlos again, and Carlos's hands tightened on Cecil's hips as he moaned, the sweet friction almost too much to bear. At this point, he honestly didn’t care, so long as Cecil continued on as he was. It felt so good, but Carlos knew Cecil, and he knew his habits in bed; the Noctis prince tended to be loud, though he didn’t mean to be, so the threat of being caught was a very real possibility. If his father caught them like this, on the throne of Vail...

Cecil's forehead dropped against his shoulder as he continue to languidly grind against the Vailian prince. Carlos moaned, against his better judgment; everything felt so good, with Cecil in his lap like this, mouthing at his neck, driving him so slowly, so steadily crazy...

Cecil's gyrations slowed, before they stopped all together quite suddenly, and Carlos blinked against the haze of lust as he turned his head to look at the Noctis prince. Cecil's head was still on Carlos's shoulder, but his eyes had closed, his breathing deep and even, and he snored quietly as he slumped against him.

Carlos bit his lip to contain the laugh that bubbled through his chest, and he shook his head, running a hand through Cecil's soft hair as he kissed his temple.

"You little tease." He said lightly.

Very carefully, he eased Cecil off of his lap, and scooped the prone form of the Noctis prince into his arms. Cecil's face pressed against the junction of Carlos's neck, his breath tickling the still slightly sensitive skin there. Carlos made sure the bottle of ale was well concealed underneath the throne's velvet fringe, and he vowed to retrieve it in the morning before anyone else could find it. He then proceeded to carry Cecil from the throne room and down the hall, back towards his bedroom, where he very gently deposited him onto the bed. He pressed a gentle kiss to Cecil's forehead as he tucked the sheets around him before he climbed into the bed himself.

"If only you knew the things you do to me, Prince Cecil." He whispered softly, tracing his fingers over Cecil's cheek. "And the lengths I am willing to go to protect you."

He twined his fingers with Cecil's, and rubbed his thumb over Cecil's knuckles until he fell asleep.

 

\-----

 

The next morning found Cecil with a splitting headache. He groaned as he opened his eyes to the bright sunlight streaming through the window into the room, only to squeeze them shut tightly as soon as he did, burying his face in his pillow as he did so. He felt a bit dizzy, despite laying down, his head swimming and muddled like a murky lake, his thoughts thick like weeds and leaves, and the niggling feeling of nausea prodded at the back of his throat. His head was thrumming out a samba in his skull, and he felt that surely someone _must_ be pounding at it with a chisel.

A tiny mewing caught his attention, and he opened one eye to find Khoshekh sitting on the pillow next to his head, his little tail flicking back and forth as he swatted at a lock of Cecil’s hair. Despite the pain still radiating from his head, Cecil smiled and reached out a hand to scratch the kitten underneath his chin. Khoshekh purred as his eyes closed, raising his chin higher to give Cecil further access.

“Bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” He asked quietly, wincing as his voice sent vibrations of pain through his skull. He had never had a headache quite this bad before, and he wondered, nonchalantly, if he were dying.

Or, perhaps, he had had just a bit too much of the ale he had found last night in the kitchens. In fact, now that he thought about it, Cecil found that he couldn’t quite remember everything that had happened after he had started drinking, though he _did_ remember somehow finding his way into the throne room, and Carlos’s soothing voice as he convinced Cecil to go back to bed. He vaguely remembered climbing into Carlos’s lap, grinding against him, and he remembered the sparks of pleasure he had felt shoot through his spine as he had done so, though he couldn’t quite remember anything beyond that. He was still very much in the clothes he remembered being in when he had left the room in search of something to drink, so he concluded that he most likely did not have sex with the other prince, despite having had the desire to do so since their last sexual encounter in the guest wing of the castle three days before, when he had sank to his knees and Carlos had gasped his name like it was the very air he breathed. Cecil’s scalp tingled at the memory of his hands in his hair.

Khoshekh mewled again, and pounced on Cecil’s fingers as he scratched at the pillow. He chuckled and scooped the tiny kitten into his hand, and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. He held Khoshekh close to his chest as he waited for the room to stop spinning, and gingerly sat his feet on the floor when it swarmed into a more stable view. Still holding Khoshekh close, Cecil slowly made his way towards the door, his head still pounding viciously with every beat of his heart. He tentatively stepped out into the hallway, and began making his way towards the stairs. He squinted furiously against the brightness of the sun shining through the windows, bouncing off the walls like chandelier crystals, and pressed the heel of his free hand against his throbbing temple as he continued down the hall.

Cecil’s vision was so limited, he didn’t see the body he bumped into it until it was too late. He stumbled backwards, his grip on Khoshekh tightening as he pressed the kitten against his chest in an attempt to protect him. Hands reached out and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back upright before he could fall completely, and Cecil’s head protested vehemently against the sudden movement. He groaned, pressing his fist against his forehead between his eyes, and gritted his teeth, willing the throbbing to go away.

“Cecil?” A soft, oaky tenor asked, and Cecil opened his eyes to find Carlos peering at him in concern, his hands still on Cecil’s shoulders. He was bent over slightly, trying to meet Cecil’s eyes.

“Carlos!” Cecil tried to smile, his heart stuttering at the sight of those brown eyes so full of concern – for _him._ He wasn’t sure he would ever tire of them.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asked, removing his hands from Cecil’s shoulders as Cecil straightened himself, still blinking against the assaulting sunlight.

“Perfectly fine, dear Carlos.” He assured the other prince with the wave of his hand. “Just, ah…I have a bit of a headache.”

Carlos grinned at him. “I’d say you probably do, what with all that ale you drank last night.” He said. “And you’ve slept all day as well. It’s nearly one o’clock in the afternoon, you know.”

Cecil’s jaw dropped. “One in the afternoon?!” He asked, blinking. “I’ve never slept that late in my life!”

“Hmmm, and have you ever been as drunk as you were last night?” Carlos asked with a playful smirk.

“Well, admittedly, no.” Cecil said, somewhat sheepishly. He dropped his gaze to Khoshekh in his hand, and scratched his head with his finger.

“I was on my way to wake you.” Carlos said, tilting his head up towards his. He leant forward and brushed their lips together, and Cecil felt sparks shiver down his spine at the contact. “We have a meeting with the generals at three. Do you not remember? We sign the treaty tomorrow.”

Cecil nodded. “I remember.” He said. “I was not aware of a meeting with the generals, however.”

“Unfortunately, nor I.” Carlos said. “My father called it at the last minute, stating that if we truly wish to move forward with this treaty, a meeting to discuss the politics with Vail’s generals is vital. If we are truly to enter an armistice, and our militaries to work together, we must first introduce our plan to them.”

Cecil nodded. “I understand.” He said. “But I admit, meetings involving martial planning are not my strongest suit.”

“Don’t worry; they’re one of mine.” Carlos assured him, smiling gently as he pressed a kiss to Cecil’s forehead. He glanced down at Khoshekh, who mewed at him. He rubbed the tip of his finger underneath the kitten’s chin, and Khoshekh purred delightedly. “I fed him earlier, between breakfast and my lessons.” He said. “He took to the milk well.”

“Thank you.” Cecil said, smiling. The image of Carlos feeding his tiny kitten was one he sorely wished he could have seen. “He will surely be hungry again soon.” His stomach growled, rather loudly, and he blushed as Carlos laughed.

“Sounds like you are, too.” He said. He slipped his arm around Cecil, and pulled him close. “Come on. I’ll accompany you to the kitchens, and then it’s best we both get ready for the meeting with the generals.”

“I’d like that.” He said. He leant his head against Carlos’s shoulder. They walked in companionable silence for a moment before he looked back at the Vailian prince. “Carlos, did we…last night…we didn’t… _you know_ , did we?”

Carlos shook his head, smiling gently. “No, we didn’t, I promise.” He said. “I don’t expect you recall what happened?”

“Not in full detail, no.” Cecil shook his head. “I remember you coming to find me in the throne room, and…being in your lap, but nothing else.”

“You fell asleep.” Carlos said. “So I picked you up and took you to bed.”

“Thank you. For taking care of me last night, I mean.” Cecil said. “I’m sorry if I caused a disturbance with my drunkenness. And for being so straight forward in my intentions.”

“It was actually quite amusing.” Carlos said, his brown eyes sparkling. “You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

Cecil smiled. His free hand not holding Khoshekh found Carlos’s, and he squeezed his hand. Even with his perfect complexion, Carlos was unable to hide the blush that crept up his neck when he caught Cecil looking at him out the corner of his eye.

It was moments like this when Cecil was almost absolutely convinced that perhaps Prince Carlos was in love with him, too.

He sincerely hoped the word “neat” had not escaped his mouth during his inebriation the night before.

 

\-----

 

The meeting with Vail’s generals and military advisors lasted several hours, and Cecil was eternally grateful for the meeting’s end. He had managed to persevere through it without much of a hitch; in fact, he was almost certain he had managed to win over at least one of the generals from the group of five, so he supposed he could consider it a success, despite Carlos being the one that had done most of the speaking.

Carlos, Cecil had found, was a brilliant strategist. He was as confident as he was collected as he recounted all of the assemblies of the martial branches and the strengths therein, and offered each general a proposal specifically for them, and their ranks. In the end, a decision had been made: Vail and Noctis were, indeed, to continue with the treaty tomorrow afternoon, with their approval.

Cecil let out a sign of relief as he slumped against the wall of his guest room, running his hands over his face. He still had a bit of a headache, despite having been seated in a windowless room for the better part of three hours, and he now had only moments to spare before he would join Carlos for dinner, though not, he remembered with relief, the King, as he would be dining with the generals in the grand hall, whilst Cecil and Carlos, who had been politely excused when asked, would dine in the library. Cecil had the sneaking suspicion that Carlos could sense his growing unease in the company of the Vailian generals, as well as the knowledge of his still lingering headache. He was grateful, and, if he were honest, he was glad for the privacy.

There was a knock on his door, and Cecil turned and opened it to reveal Carlos, smiling at him.

Cecil grinned. “Prince Carlos.” He greeted.

“Prince Cecil.” Carlos greeted back. “May I come in?”

Cecil nodded and stepped aside to grant Carlos entry, and Carlos stepped inside. Cecil closed the door behind him, and no sooner did he did Carlos have his arms around him, pulling him close, burying his face in Cecil’s shoulder.

“You were brilliant back there.” He whispered into Cecil’s tunic.

Cecil sighed contentedly as he allowed himself to relax into the Vailian prince’s embrace. He slipped his arms around Carlos’s middle and allowed himself to be lost in the feeling of their bodies close together, relishing in the feeling of Carlos’s hands against his waist. Carlos smelled of cinnamon and warm, freshly tilled earth, of petrichor and worn linen, and it was absolutely intoxicating. Cecil never wanted it to fade.

“I would hardly call my performance ‘brilliant,’ Carlos.” He said. “I stumbled over my words on more than one occasion, I was inept in demonstrating my strategic planning abilities, and I forgot General al-Mujaheed’s name thrice.”

“To be honest, I don’t think he noticed.” Carlos assured him, pulling back to look at him.

“But _I_ noticed, Carlos.” Cecil said with a sigh. He laid his forehead against Carlos’s sternum. “Your father must truly think me the foolish prince he’s always believed me to be.”

“I don’t care what my father thinks.” Carlos informed him sternly. “I believe you were brilliant, and your intelligence was shining as you spoke of the benefits of integrating our military into the trade ideals. You are not nearly as incompetent as you believe yourself to be. Had there truly been a battle fought between the two of us, I am not ashamed to admit that your expertise would have bested mine and the battle would have been yours.”

“Stop.” Cecil said, fighting against the flattered smile that played against his lips. “You’re just saying that.”

“I am not.” Carlos retorted. His brown eyes were sparkling. “Do you think me a liar, Prince Cecil?”

“Of course not!” Cecil said, shoving at him lightly. “I am merely stating that perhaps you are just saying those things to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?” Carlos quirked an eyebrow.

Cecil eyed him for a moment, fighting harshly against the blush he could feel spreading across his cheeks.

“Admittedly…yes.” He said finally, and Carlos grinned. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Cecil’s forehead, and Cecil felt his stomach erupt into the tingling lightness he had come to associate with Carlos’s presence, and the warm, dull pain in the center of his chest returned. Carlos chuckled, and Cecil felt himself shiver as the vibrations shot through him, and he melted even further into the other man’s embrace.

After a moment, Carlos pulled away, and Cecil mourned for the loss. “Shall we get dinner?” He asked.

Cecil smiled and nodded, his stomach growling in response. “That would be lovely.” He said as he took Carlos’s arm. “I have one request however: no ale this time.”

Carlos laughed heartily.

“No ale.”

 

\-----

 

As much as he did not want to, the King had to admit that Prince Cecil was methodical in his martial abilities. He was not nearly the fool the King had previously believed him to be, especially regarding his capacity for strategic planning. He had given off an air of regality that the King had not seen before, his words confident and carrying, and the generals had, much to the King’s chagrin, taken well to him in the end. Over dinner and ale they had discussed, rather enthusiastically, the peace that was about to be brought between Noctis and Vail, and the King could not deny that it made his heart swell with pride at the sight of the generals’ – citizens of his kingdom – excitement over the prospect of never having to be concerned with the bloody war fields again. One of them had even suggested repurposing the lands used as battlefields over the years as fields for growing carrots.

Perhaps this treaty was in good standing after all.

The King sighed tiredly as he ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked down the hall towards his study. Night had fallen, and despite this, the King knew that sleep was as far off as the dawn. Now that the generals had been met with, the treaty still had to be written, and in order for the royal scribes to do so the next day, it was up to the King to write himself what it was that was to be transcribed before passing it over to the scribes for inscription, and from there, signage by Prince Carlos and Prince Cecil the next day.

As he trudged forward, the King passed by his son’s chamber door. It was slightly ajar, and he could hear the rustling of sheets from inside, as well as the catching of breath. A sudden chill of anger shot through him, and the King thought angrily as he stalked towards the door as quietly as possible that if his son and Prince Cecil were once again having a midnight fuck, after he’d specifically warned Carlos against it, he’d skin them both alive.

The King peered into his son's bedroom through the crack of the door, fully expecting to find his heir and that damnable Noctic prince engaged in illicit affairs once more, and he was fully prepared to put an end to it immediately. What he found instead took him aback, and he felt the anger melt from his bones like wax.

His son sat on the bed, and he held the Prince of Noctis in his arms. The Noctic prince was fast asleep, his head on Carlos's shoulder, his face pressed against his neck. His son was lovingly carding a hand through his flyaway blond hair, and the King's heart stopped when he saw the pure adoration gleaming in his son's eyes, illuminated by the flickering light of the waning fireplace in the corner.

The King knew what it felt like, to look at another like that, to hold someone so close to your own body it nearly hurt to breathe, but it would hurt so much worse to let them go. He knew what it was like to feel the gentle breath of another against flushed skin, against kiss swollen lips. He knew, and because he knew, he recognized what it meant to see this look upon his son's face.

He was in love. In love with that vile monster from Noctis, that he had tried so hard to instill within his son the desire to kill, to take, to own. And he had taken, and owned, with his own hands, but it had not been the enemy prince's life; instead it had been his heart. He had handed his over with such reckless abandon, had charged headlong into a scene that could cost him everything, had leapt before he had dared even so much as a glance.         

To _Noctis._

His son rubbed a hand along the other's shoulders, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he gently leant backwards against the pile of pillows at his headboard, slowly so as to not awaken the other prince. He pulled the sheets up around them both, and went back to carding his hand though that stupid mop of tufty blond hair, as though it were the finest silken thread as he tucked the other man’s head beneath his chin.

The King swallowed as he watched Carlos close his eyes, sighing contentedly as he succumbed to the calm of sleep, the Noctic prince pressed close to his chest. In that moment, as he watched them drift away to the safety of dreams together, so peaceful and safe within each other’s embraces, the King knew that there would not now, nor would there ever be, a way to convince his son to ever give up the enemy prince.

What was more, the King had not seen his son smile like that since his mother had died.

And he wasn’t certain, no matter how much he hated Prince Cecil of Noctis, and his retched kingdom, that he could bear to cause his son a reason to feel that kind of pain again. He had lost his brother, his mother…could he ask him to lose Cecil, too?

Silently, he walked past the door and down the hall, towards his study.

As he approached the end of the hallway, he passed the grand hall, down which hung the great paintings of the royal family of Vail. The King paused, glancing into the room that so often brought him nothing but pain. Sighing, he abandoned his venture forward towards his study, and instead walked into the grand hall.

The King smiled fondly as he gently ran his hand across the gilded frames of the paintings, as though he were caressing a newborn babe’s hair, and looked up at the faces that gazed back in distinct nostalgia. Here hung the paintings of all the great Kings of Vail that had come before him, as well as their families, and one of his great-great-grandfather’s beloved pet squirrel (affectionately named Nuts, he remembered). Here hung his family history, Vail’s history, in all its nobility and glory, and the King felt a swell of pride for his kingdom as he continued down the line, until he reached a particularly large painting.

Of all the paintings in the gallery, the King knew this one best.

The plaque on the bottom of the frame read, “His Majesty King Éric of Vail, with the Queen Isabella, Crown Prince Javier, Princess Amaris, and Prince Carlos.”

Carlos was just five years old when the painting had been commissioned, making his sister ten, and his brother sixteen. The King gazed up into the individual faces of his children with all the affection of a father, and pride stronger than any he had ever felt surged through him. He had always loved his children; they were his joy, his greatest gifts. Beautiful, sweet Amaris; quiet, analytic Carlos; bold, courageous Javier.

And Isabella. His beautiful, kind, warm Isabella. There were several portraits of her hanging in the gallery, but the King liked this one best. Here, she was at his side, smiling gently, her hand draped over his as he sat in the plush chair of his study. She was just as he remembered her in this painting: young, spirited, her brown eyes full of life and wonder, her dark skin smooth and lovely. The King felt a lump form at the back of his throat as he raised his hand to gently brush his fingertips against the face of his wife as she stared back at him, the paint cool and flat against the starched canvas beneath.

“Oh, Isa,” he said softly, his voice hitching slightly. “How I wish you could be here now.”

He felt his hand beginning to shake, and he balled it into a fist, holding it close to his chest as he laid his palm flat against the likeness of his wife, and he squeezed his eyes closed tightly. He _abhorred_ crying; it had always made him feel weak. But in the case of his wife, and importantly, her absence, he could not bring himself to believe that it was weakness; it was love.

How could he have ever called Carlos weak for defending Cecil? Because he loved him? Simply because the King did not agree? Love did not make one weak; it made one strong.

“You would know just what to say.” He choked. “To me, and to our son. He is—he is in love, Isa. With Prince Cecil of Noctis. _Noctis,_ Isa! Did we not raise him to believe as we have all these years, that Noctis is a vile enemy?! Did we not try to instill in him that his destiny was to defeat him, to kill that vile bastard and claim his lands for his own?! Did we not, Isa?! Did we not try?!”

He remembered the look on Carlos’s face when the King had pinned Cecil against the wall and held the dagger to his throat.

“We tried, Isa.” The King continued, more quietly now. “We did try, but is it not true that children will do as they will? We always said that we would allow our children to marry for love, did we not? Our Amaris is married to a good man. He loves her, and our grandchildren. Had…had Javier lived, I have no doubt he, too, would have found love in his own time. And Carlos…”

He sighed and shook his head. “He is in love with the Prince of Noctis. Despite all we tried to teach him, he still fell in love with him.”

He pulled away and looked up at his wife’s face. “I don’t know what to do, Isa. I am first and foremost a king. I must think of my kingdom, and its future, and how can our kingdom hope for a future if he is allowed to be with this Cecil, another man? He will not have an heir…the kingdom would crumble! Would fall! And he would allow it!”

He spat the last five words, bitterly, as though they tasted bad on his tongue. He felt his heart constrict in his chest, like a stab wound, and he wasn’t exactly sure where the pain originated. Was it the pain of fear for his kingdom’s future? Or was it the pain of not knowing what to do? Were they truly very different?

He could almost hear his wife’s sweet, chiming voice in his ear as he closed his eyes once more and leant his forehead against the wall below the frame of the painting. Strands of his long black hair fell into his face, and clung against his damp eyelashes as tears began to well in his eyes once more, and he was unable to stop them as a few fell.

_He did not ask for this, Éric._

The King knew that he probably sounded like a madman to any passing specter, but he hardly cared as he sighed, and spoke once more.

“I know.” He said, softly. “I know that he did not _ask_ to fall in love with Noctis any more than any of us asked to fall in love with each of our loves. But Isa…how can I allow this? How can I _allow_ him to be with him?! How can I allow this to continue?”

_How can you not?_

The King swallowed, shaking his head. He did not have an answer to that question.

“I miss you.” His voice broke, shaking slightly, as he pressed his palm against the face of his wife’s portrait. “I miss you, and your wisdom, the way you always knew just what to do, even when I did not. I don’t know what to do, Isa. I don’t know that I can let go of what his kingdom did to Javier…they _murdered_ him, Isa! In cold blood! Our son! Our eldest child! Noctis stole him from us! And then their prince decides that he may march into Carlos’s life, seduce him with pretty little words and promises! Who does he think he is?! To think that he may lay a claim to Carlos’s heart?! To think that he has the right to court Carlos after all his country has put us through?!”

The anger was boiling, scalding hot in his gut. He felt it burning at the edges of his composure, as the hot tears flowed more freely from his eyes.

“He is a liar, a thief, bent on taking our country for his own! He is not in love with Carlos! He is deceitful, and our son is stupid enough to fall for it, Isa! He is a fool! A stubborn, blind fool!”

_It is not foolishness to be in love, Éric._

The King gave a mirthless snort. “Is it not, though? Is love not a form of foolishness? Is it not love that makes you abandon all logic, all semblance of control?” He looked back up at the painting, at his wife’s soft face. “Are we not all fools at one time in our lives?”

He pushed a hand through his black hair. “I was a fool for you, once.” He murmured. “And perhaps I always will be.”

His gaze moved from the face of his wife to the face of his eldest child. Javier had been bold, brave, a stunning, shining child, the light of all of Vail. He had been beautiful, in all aspects, and the King hesitantly laid his hand against the chest of his son’s portrait.

“Javier…” He whispered. “My Javier…how can I allow your brother to love this man, when it feels so much as though I am betraying you in doing so?”

His son’s voice did not permeate the fog that had settled in his absence, as Isabella’s had. Instead, he continued to gaze outwards at the world from the paint on canvas. The King smiled sadly up at his son, his beloved first born, that he did not feel he had ever been granted the time to truly get to know.

“But I am beginning to wonder…would it have made any difference if you had lived, my son?” He said quietly, so quietly, in fact, he wondered if had said it at all. “Had you lived, would it have made a difference? Perhaps Carlos would still have met him, still have fallen in love with him no matter if you had lived or not. Does it truly matter that he is from Noctis? Would it be any different had he hailed from anywhere else? Perhaps this is far greater than I ever imagined.”

He swallowed against the ever persistent lump at the back of his throat.

“You were never granted the chance to fall in love, my child.” He lamented, running his fingers over the depiction of his son’s black hair. “You were taken from us far too soon. But…Carlos is alive. He has been given that chance. Amaris was given that chance. Perhaps…perhaps my betrayal of you, and your memory, would not be to allow Carlos to love Noctis…but to not allow it at all.”

He felt his heart thunder against his ribcage furiously as he uttered these words, the words that felt so much like blasphemy, but at the same time, sounded and felt so much like truth. Perhaps the line between the two truly was as blurred as his son loving the Prince of Noctis made it appear.

With stunning clarity, the King knew what it was he must do. He removed his hand from the painting, and stepped back, taking a deep intake of breath as he faced the portrait of his family, of his wife and son, with his shoulders squared with all the regality of his title.

“I will always love you. Both of you.” He said. “As I love Amaris, and Carlos too.” He smiled. “I will make you both proud.”

With that, he turned, and walked swiftly from the gallery, and headed back towards his study.

He had much to consider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually _cried like a baby_ when I wrote the end of this chapter with the King and Queen Isabella. My feels were not pleased with me. I'd also like to say that while I named Carlos's sister Amaris (A-mar-US), Mixxy named his brother, Javier (ha-vee-air). :) I've enjoyed the character development with the King, and I also realized while writing this chapter that while I decided on the King's name a long time ago, I had never actually mentioned it, so... :) 
> 
> Also, I absolutely LOVED the last two episodes!!! I can't decide how happy and excited I am, especially regarding more Carlos backstory, but I assure you, it's close to 3000%. (Also. EARL HARLAN. YES.) 
> 
> Next time: The treaty is signed, and there is a ball.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things come to a head, Carlos and Cecil reflect on their feelings for one another. The treaty is signed, there is a ball, and the King makes a decision that will alter his son's life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS 12,011 WORDS LONG. -passes out- 
> 
> This chapter is a long time coming, and for that, I deeply apologize! It's a super long one, and I *almost* cut it in half due to its length, but decided against it; it would not flow as linearly as I would like if I did that, so here you go! A super long chapter to make up for the absence! Thank you all so much for sticking with me! 
> 
> Several things have come up between November and now, including, of course, the holidays, and a terrible cold that knocked me on my ass for a week. I began the winter semester in school, had some legal issues with my employer so my job was pretty stressful (all cleared up now!), and unfortunately, I lost my dog of 12 years earlier this month, so I've been pretty unmotivated. So I apologize!
> 
> ALSO! Who else here is going to see Night Vale in Detroit on May 10th?! Tristan and I will be there again, in cosplay! I'm stoked! We have two friends going with us this time, and we're meeting up with two of our friends we made at the show last year for lunch, so I am super uber excited! If you're going, hit me up!!!!
> 
> CHAPTER SONG: "The People Who Carry Their Forest With Them" by Disparition (feat. Cecil Baldwin)

 

The next morning was the first time Cecil awoke in Carlos’s arms, and he was fairly certain that nothing else in the entire world could be more wonderful. His head was tucked beneath Carlos’s chin, and Carlos’s hand was in Cecil’s hair, still and tender, as though he had been stroking it when he fell asleep. His arms were warm and secure around Cecil’s body, holding him close to his own as he continued to sleep, and Cecil was more than content to snuggle back against the warm expanse of Carlos’s chest, closing his eyes again and sighing blithely.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, wrapped in Carlos’s embrace, for the first time knowing what it was like to wake up next to the Vailian prince (without having a knife pressed to his throat at least). It was truly wonderful, and filled Cecil’s chest with the familiar, warm swell he knew to be love, and deep affection. But he knew that every second was absolutely magical, absolutely astounding. In Carlos’s arms, Cecil felt more wanted, more cared for, and safer than he’d ever felt before.

He splayed his hand out across Carlos’s chest, above his heart, as Carlos was fond of doing to him. He could feel Carlos’s heart beating beneath his fingertips, and Cecil marveled in the strength of that heart, the kindness of that heart. Cecil remembered all the times Carlos had tenderly touched him, how he had so gently tended to the wounds – now very nearly completely healed, and barely visible – on Cecil’s wrists from the shackles of the dungeon, and from where the King’s dagger had been thrust against his throat, how he had kissed away the ache of the bruises the King’s grip on his jugular had left. The mere memory made Cecil’s skin tingle.

A tiny mewing brought Cecil out of his reverie, and his attention was immediately snapped to the source of the pitiful sound. Cecil very gently disentangled himself from Carlos, and peered over the edge of the bed to find Khoskekh, who was hanging suspended by his claws in a fold of sheet that had fallen off the side of the bed. He meowed desperately when he saw Cecil, who reached out a hand to gently pluck little black kitten from the sheet, and cradled him close.

“Good morning, Khoshekh.” He whispered as he rubbed a fingertip across the little kitten’s head. Khoshekh closed his eyes and purred. “It’s time for breakfast, huh?”

Carefully so as to not disturb Carlos, Cecil pulled back the sheets, and sat his feet on the cool stone floor, and made his way out the door and into the hallway.

He followed the by now familiar halls down the stairs and into the kitchens, where Cecil found the cooks and kitchen hands hard at work, the atmosphere bubbling and exciting, no doubt in preparation for the ball that night following the signing of the treaty. Cecil, not wanting to disturb anything overly important, reached out and tapped a young girl with dark skin and long black hair on the shoulder. She turned, surprised, and Cecil saw her eyes widen at the sight of him, and he wondered if he should have at the very least smoothed down his hair before venturing down; he was all too aware that he was still clad in the clothes Carlos had lent him to sleep in, and he knew of his blond hair’s tendency to stick up at all angles when he first arose in the morning.

But the girl’s eyes were edged with fear, and Cecil knew it was because of who he was, and not what he looked like. He smiled at the girl, hoping to ease that trepidation, hoping that it sent a clear enough message that Cecil meant her no harm.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Is there any way I could get a cup of milk? And perhaps a rag?” He gestured to Khoshekh. “He’s a bit hungry.”

The girl, whose brown eyes were still wide with unhidden apprehension, nodded, and turned. She crossed the room to where a bucket was sitting on the counter near an older gentleman carefully kneading what appeared to be pastry dough, and ladled milk into a small cup. She brought the cup back to Cecil, who took it gratefully.

“Thank you.” He said to the girl. “I appreciate it.”

The girl, who continued to look at him as though he were a wolf with dripping fangs about to jump out at her, nodded, before she turned away from him again, and hastily went back to work. Cecil fought the urge to follow her, and explain that he hadn’t meant to frighten her, but instead decided it was best to leave the kitchen to those that needed it, and quietly took his leave.

He held the cup of milk – still warm and fresh – in one hand, and Khoshekh in the other as he climbed the staircase back to the hall, and he slipped into his guest room. He sat down on the as of yet relatively untouched bed. He grabbed the rag from the pitcher next to the bed, and carefully dipped the corner of it into the milk, before he set it before Khoshekh in his lap, who eagerly began to suckle it, whilst purring sweetly and kneading his paws into Cecil’s thigh.

As he fed his little kitten, Cecil sighed, and thought about the day ahead. His eyes were drawn to the screen in the corner, where he had hung up his formal tunic the night before, and wondered if perhaps he should have been more thoughtful in his choice of attire for that night before he had left Noctis. He thought about Carlos, who had looked so dashing in the suit he had worn at the coronation ball in Coronis, how he had radiated confidence and poise, how a single look at his face told you that he was as analytical as he was the very picture of regality.

Cecil suddenly felt that he would be incredibly out of place at the ball that night. He had never before been so self-conscious, especially of what he wore, and especially in regards to Carlos. Carlos had seen him in less than formal tunics, in borrowed clothes that were a bit too big for him, and in nothing at all, and yet, this knowledge did nothing to ease the settling feeling that perhaps he was nowhere near as matched for Carlos as he had previously imagined.

Cecil sighed, and looked down at Khoshekh, who still suckled at the milk on the corner of the rag zealously.

“To be in love with one that cannot possibly love you back is a great burden to bear, little Khoshekh.” He said quietly. “Indeed, how could Carlos love me? Despite the treaty we will sign this very day, we have been raised as enemies, to see each other as such, raised to kill each other in battle. We were not destined to find one another in each other’s arms.”

Khoshekh, finally sated, pulled away from the rag, and Cecil stroked his fur gently as he continued.

“How could he love someone like me, who is so much less than his equal? Carlos is so smart, Khoshekh, and despite what he has said to the contrary, how could I ever hope to be as intelligent as he is? I have always been regarded as an oddball, a rather strange individual, even within the confines of my own kingdom. Sometimes I wonder if my legacy will fall upon this, instead of all that I could be capable of.”

He shook his head.

“I know the King of Vail will never allow me to court his son, let alone _be_ with him for any extended amount of time. He’s made it exceedingly clear of this. I know it’s because of what Noctis did to his eldest son. I know it’s because my kingdom took his child from him, and I know that he blames me for that. I suspect that after tonight, I will no longer be welcome here, Khoshekh. I would not be surprised if he banished me before the conclusion of the ball. He warned me the first day I was here that if he caught me slipping up, just once, he’d have been taken from Vail, possibly in pieces. So the possibility of being able to be with Carlos is next to none, not that it would matter anyway. The King would be right to believe that I am not a suitable match for his son. And Carlos has said that he doesn’t care what his father thinks, but…Carlos is not the king. Not yet. And if his father wishes me gone, it can be done.”

He thought about the course of the last week, about all the time he and the Prince of Vail had spent together. He thought about all the times the other prince had held his hand, had kissed him without any hesitation at all, had smiled at him warmly. He thought about the kind words, the reassurances, the willingness to share with Cecil all that he had. It made Cecil’s stomach flutter pleasantly at the thought.

“Carlos says he’s fond of me. He has told me numerous times before, and if our lovemaking has any standing, I think that that’s at least true. He has been nothing but kind and absolutely wonderful, welcoming me into his kingdom, his home…his bed. He was willing to put his life on the line for me when his father attacked me. But would one not do so for the sake of a good friend? This does not mean that he loves me. Fond of me, yes, he has said so several times.

“But how could someone as perfect as Carlos _love_ someone like me?” Cecil finished quietly. He felt the tears that had been pricking at the edges of his vision begin to roll down his cheeks, despite his best efforts to restrain them, and he wiped them away on the back of his hand.

He glanced back up at his tunic, and shook his head.

“I’m in love with the Prince of Vail, Khoshekh.” He said finally. “And whether or not he loves me in return, if today our kingdoms join together in solidarity, and if this may be my last chance…I’m going to tell him.”

With resolve building, Cecil gently sat his little kitten on the pillow before he rose to his feet and crossed the room, running his hands over the soft satin of his tunic, and smiled.

Tonight he would tell Carlos that he loved him. Tonight, at the ball, he would ask him to dance, would share with him just one dance, just one moment, and he would tell him. Even if he had misjudged everything about the interactions he had shared with the Vailian prince that week, even if he did not return Cecil’s feelings, he knew that, for his own sake, he had to tell him.

But first, he had to prepare.

And first thing was first, a good bath was in order.

 

\-----

 

Carlos hadn’t seen Cecil all day, and he was beginning to get worried.

He had awoken to an empty bed that morning, the sheets still warm from Cecil’s departure, and Carlos’s heart ached with a very sudden, very sharp stab of something akin to loneliness. He had fallen asleep with the Noctic prince pressed as close to his body as he could comfortably manage, and it had felt so fundamentally _right_ that Carlos’s heart still stuttered at the memory.

He had asked around the castle, and indeed, the servants had seen him about that day. A young kitchen maid had said she had gotten him a cup of milk for his kitten, and Carlos had seen the fear written as clear as day across her face as she told him of her encounter with Cecil. He felt a flare of protectiveness, that despite not knowing a single thing about him other than that he was the Prince of Noctis, people were so quick to distrust him. Carlos thought of the pure and innocent kindness in Cecil’s blue eyes, and he felt sad that no one here (other than Carlos, of course, and the corgis) had even given him a chance. Carlos could only begin to imagine how isolated that must have made the other prince feel.

He had searched for Cecil far and wide within the castle, but had not run into him once. It seemed that the Noctic prince had set it to his mind that he did not want to be found, and with the stress of the past week leading up to this day, Carlos could hardly blame him for that.

Besides, he would see him in just a few hours’ time when they signed the treaty. He would speak to him then.

Carlos sighed as he flopped, rather unceremoniously, onto his bed, rubbing his face with his hands. Despite everything that they had been preparing for, Carlos was beginning to doubt the solidity of their plan. He believed, with everything he was, that this treaty was absolutely the right thing to do, and it truly was possible for this feat to be pulled off.

But despite everything they had worked for, despite everything both he and Cecil were willing to risk, what if this turned out to be a failure? What if their kingdoms rebelled against the idea of a partnership, of a unified self? Carlos remembered the many times he and Cecil had spoken of creating one country, of creating their Night Vale, but what if this was nothing more than a fleeting dream of two foolish princes, conceived in the shadows of a quiet library on short breaths stolen by pleasure? The two of them could lay every single brick, inlay it with mortar, reinforce it with cannons and crossbows, but if the people of their kingdoms were unwilling, and against it, in the long run, what hope did they have?

He groaned into his palms as he allowed his hands to fall away from his face onto the bed beside his head. He stared up at his ceiling, trying to will his racing mind to slow, if only for a moment, so that he could properly think about the night ahead.

Carlos wanted very, very badly to kiss Cecil one last time before the signing of the treaty. The mere idea of doing so sent a flutter of warmth through his entire body, and Carlos found it impossible not to smile as he thought about the other young man’s face.

Carlos wasn’t sure what, exactly, the warm feeling that had been slowly building in his chest over the course of the last week meant. Not entirely. But he was beginning to suspect that it was a deeper fondness than any he had ever known. Cecil filled him with a happiness he had never in his life possessed, an overwhelming desire that put the brightest of fires to shame. Cecil made him want to be better, stronger, wiser. The way Cecil looked at him made him feel as though, for the first time in his life, he was truly being seen for who he was, for the man he wanted to be. Cecil made Carlos believe that maybe there _was_ a way for others to see him as he was beneath the title he was born into, and the crown he would one day wear.

Cecil made Carlos feel alive, made him feel as he had never felt before.

He was filled with a fierce urgency to tell him, to lay all that had been building over the course of the last week on the table, to take his face in his hands and kiss him more senseless than he ever had. He wanted to grab him and hold him close, tell him how absolutely astounding he was, how everything was light and music and _right_ with him there. The urgency made Carlos’s skin tingle and pop, the hair at the back of his neck stand up like when there was lightning in the air. It was invigorating, this verve, this need, and it felt like a kick to the gut, nearly knocking the air out of Carlos as realization hit him hard and fast.

He was in love.

He was in love with the Prince of Noctis.

His heart pounded against his chest in the most wonderful tempo at the thought, and the very idea. This was so much more than just mere fondness and mutual respect; Carlos was absolutely, completely in love with Prince Cecil.

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh dear.

He covered his face with his hands as an embarrassed flush snapped across his face like a slap.

“Lord in Heaven,” he muttered. “So this is why they say love is like a poison.”

He let his hands fall from his face with a laugh. He continued to lay there on his bed, laughing up at the ceiling as though it contained the funniest antic any fool could conjure. He laughed until tears formed at the corners of his eyes, and his face was sore from smiling so widely. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled like that, but Carlos had a sneaking suspicion it had been when his mother was still alive.

Carlos wasn’t sure how long he laid there, basking in the waning summer afternoon sun that cascaded through his window, staring up at the ceiling of the room he had had all his life, but he hardly cared. He was lost to everything but the thought of the prince hiding somewhere in the castle, and the way he made Carlos’s very world turn on its end at the very thought of his handsome face.

“I need to tell him,” Carlos said to the air. “I have to tell him, before the ball tonight. I need to tell him I love him.”

It was decided, then. Carlos would tell the Noctic prince that he loved him, and pray for the best.

Now if only he could get his heart to stop pounding…

 

\-----

 

Carlos had spent the remainder of the afternoon sequestered away in his bedroom, ruminating over the night ahead, turning the words he wished to say to Cecil over and over in his head in the hopes that perhaps if he memorized them well enough, as he did the Latin he studied, perhaps it would help his voice to stop shaking so badly whenever he practiced them before the mirror in the corner, but in the end, he knew it was futile effort; he could not keep the tremor of nervousness out of his tenor no matter how hard he tried, and in the end, he finally gave up trying.

He stared at his reflection in the floor length mirror before him, and finished tying the wide royal red sash that denoted him as Vailian royalty around his waist, smoothing the rich fabric of his dark green suit’s jacket. He sighed as he ran his fingers through his unruly curls one more time, smoothing them down as best he could before finally giving up for the seventh time in the last hour.

“Now or never, Carlos.” He told his reflection, puffing out his chest slightly to convince himself he was as confident as he appeared. “Just go and find him, and tell him.”

Before he could lose any further resolve, Carlos turned away from the mirror, and grabbed his sword from where it stood propped against the wall by his wardrobe. He attached it to his belt, once again smoothing out the sash to cover it. With one last glance in the mirror, he turned and strode from the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he did so.

He made his way down the hall, and paused at Cecil’s door. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and knocked.

“Cecil?” He asked quietly. “Are you in there?”

There was the sound of shuffling from behind the door, and Carlos heard the lock being unbolted, and he stepped back and away from the door as it was swung open to reveal Cecil. Carlos’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the other man before him, and he had to remind himself to breathe. It was just Cecil. Just Cecil. He could do this.

But, he had to admit, his stolen breath was due in part to his anxiety, yes, but the other half was completely stolen by what the Noctic prince was wearing.

Cecil was wearing a more formal tunic than the one had had worn at the coronation ball in Coronis, and from the one he had entered Vail wearing. It was a deep, rich eggplant in color, with gold embroidery detailing what appeared to be half-moons and eyes – the symbols of Noctis royalty, much the like the seal tattoo on Cecil’s chest – lined the hem, the ends of his sleeves, and along the V-cut of the neckline. Beneath the tunic was a pair of lavender colored furry pants (was that rabbit fur? Or mink?), and his normal sandals donned his feet. His hair was artfully tousled, and Carlos mused that it closely resembled the style it took on after one of their lovemaking sessions, as though it had been lightly tugged at it, and he wondered if Cecil had been just as nervous as he had been.

He looked absolutely stunning. Carlos felt his heart stutter in his chest, and his mouth run dry as he struggled for words as he blinked at the other prince before him, and he realized his mouth was open like a fish gapping for air. He shook his head and smiled at the other man, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Cecil,” he greeted. “You look amazing!”

Cecil gave him a small smile, and he toyed with the hem of his tunic.

“You don’t think it’s too…informal?” He asked. “I didn’t really think about it when I packed before leaving Noctis or I would have packed something much more suited to Vailian ballroom attire…”

“It’s perfect.” Carlos assured him, reaching out and taking his hand, just letting his thumb brush across his knuckles. “You look wonderful.”

Cecil’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled, his blue eyes dancing with warmth and a joy so pure it made Carlos’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Are you ready for this?” Cecil asked after a moment of silence passed between them.

Carlos smoothed an errant tuft of hair behind Cecil’s ear. “As I can be.” He said. He cupped Cecil’s cheek in his hand, and the Noctis prince pressed into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Carlos finally managed against the thundering pulse of his heart. Cecil opened his eyes and peered at him intently, but did not move away from Carlos’s hand. “A-About us.”

Confusion flitted over Cecil’s face for a moment, but he didn’t speak, waiting for Carlos to continue. Carlos’s tongue suddenly seemed to be made of stone, and he opened his mouth several times to speak, only to have no words come forward. He chuckled, looking away from Cecil’s imploring expression.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “Words seem to fail me.”

“That’s alright.” Cecil said, smiling and stroking his fingers across Carlos’s arm. “It happens to me quite frequently, believe it or not.”

“Still, I have been trying to practice just what I wanted to say all afternoon.” Carlos said. “And now when the time comes for me to say them, they evade me.”

“If they truly are important, they’ll come back to you.” Cecil assured him.

Carlos grinned, and stepped closer to the Noctis prince, letting their foreheads touch as he tried to even out his breathing. Finally, he met Cecil’s blue eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Cecil, there’s something I need to tell you…” He began.

“Yes?” Cecil asked, barely on a whisper, his eyes wide and waiting.

Carlos exhaled and swallowed thickly.

“Cecil, I’ve been wanting to tell you this all day…” He squeezed Cecil’s hand. “Cecil, I—”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps, rapidly approaching, and the two men jumped apart. Moments later, the King came around the corner. Like Carlos, he was dressed in his best: his suit was made of red velvet, befitting of his title, his long black hair smoothed back and tied at the nape of his neck with a long red ribbon, and the gleaming bejeweled crown Carlos would one day inherit sat atop his head. His sword hung at his side, and Carlos saw Cecil swallow thickly from the corner of his eye, and he wanted nothing more than to take his hand and reassure him that he wouldn’t allow his father to harm him.

He and Cecil both bowed respectfully as his father came to stand in front of them.

“Father,” he greeted.

“Your majesty,” he heard Cecil say at his side.

The King nodded to them both as they straightened up, his brown eyes blazing with something Carlos could not quite name. It did not strike him as neither anger nor happiness; but at the same time, it did not strike him as ambivalence either. His father was, as usual, unreadable.

“I trust you are both adequately prepared?” He asked. “It is nearing time.”

Carlos nodded. “Yes, Father, we are ready.”

The King nodded. “Good. The council is waiting for us in the chapel, and the guests have already begun arriving for the ball.” He looked pointedly at the two princes. “The announcement that the treaty has been signed will be released tomorrow at noon. I expect you both to be in attendance, as you are both expected to make this announcement to the people of Vail yourself.”

Carlos nodded. “Yes, Father.”

The King gave a curt nod.

“I will meet you both in the chapel in no more than a quarter hour.” He said sternly. He turned on his heel and stalked the other way, the heels of his boots clicking against the stone floor. “Do not be late!”

As soon as he was gone, Carlos let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He turned back to Cecil, and smiled encouragingly at him.

“You were saying something, Carlos?” Cecil pressed after a moment of awkward silence.

Carlos shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.” He promised, taking Cecil’s hand in his and squeezing it.

Cecil smiled at him, and nudged his shoulder playfully with his own.

“Well? Shall we sign the treaty and get this over with?”

Carlos grinned at him, and looped his arm through Cecil’s.

“We shall.”

Together they walked through the hallways, venturing towards the chapel where the council awaited them, as well as all those that had been invited to bear witness to the event from the surrounding allies Vail already possessed, to welcome Noctis into their ranks. As they walked, Carlos could not help but dare a glance at the Noctis prince beside him, and he felt his heart race as he realized that Cecil was doing the same.

Carlos dropped Cecil’s arm as they neared the chapel, and cleared his throat, flashing one last smile over his shoulder at Cecil before they opened the doors, and they walked inside, Carlos walking down the right side of the room, and Cecil on the left until they stood off the sides of the chancel, facing each other, hands behind their backs. The King stood at the center in front of the podium, where a roll of parchment had been placed, rolled and tied with red ribbon, and as soon as the princes were at a still, he held up his hands, and stepped forward to address the congregation of kings, queens, princes and princesses, diplomats, nobles, and the Vailian council, as well as several Vailian citizens, including, Carlos saw, the Gutierrezes.

“Welcome to you all.” The King said, lowering his hands to the sides of the podium. “And thank you all for coming here today as we mark the joining of the kingdoms of Vail and Noctis in an alliance. Prince Carlos of Vail and Prince Cecil of Noctis have decided to enter an armistice that will bring an end to the ongoing war between our kingdoms, and will allow peace to exist between us as we build systems of trade, and political advancements. On this day, the signing of this treaty will bring an end to the conflict between Noctis and Vail, and will usher in a new era, an era of peace and prosperity for both of our kingdoms! Our trades will double, taxes will lower, and will have both gained a formidable ally to our ranks. Let us rejoice in this day!”

The King stepped back, and Carlos and Cecil stepped forward onto the chancel. The King picked up the parchment, and very carefully unrolled it. He read the treaty in its entirety, his voice clear and strong as it carried through the small chapel, and Carlos found himself wondering if he’d ever be as confident as his father, if he’d ever be able to exude such regality.

Somehow, he felt that perhaps one day he would.

“On this day, the 30th of July, we the Princes of Vail and Noctis do hereby sign this agreement, and swear to uphold the duties and delegations therein to the greatest extent of our abilities for as long as our kingdoms shall reign.” The King finished, and lowered the parchment. He spread it out on the podium so that the curled edges were flat, and nodded to the princes.

Carlos went first, taking the quill from the inkwell at the corner of the podium and signing his name at the bottom of the parchment before handing it to Cecil, who did the same. The King then took the quill and signed his initials in the corner, before returning it to the inkwell. Carlos and Cecil stepped back and faced the crowd, and Carlos looked out over the faces of the people as they stood from their seats in the pews of the chapel, clapping, some cheering as the princes turned to face one another and clasped their hands together, sealing the deal with a handshake before letting their hands fall back to their sides. Carlos’s palm tingled at the loss of contact, and he wished desperately for Cecil’s hand in his again.

“It is done!” The King proclaimed. The clapping intensified, and he held up his hands to indicate a need for quiet, which was immediately granted. “I invite you all to join us in celebrating this event immediately following in the grand ballroom.”

There was another flurry of applause and polite cheers of excitement, and Carlos could not keep the smile from his face as he turned his head to look at Cecil, who, while not looking at him, was also smiling, his body language much more relaxed than it had been even just minutes before. Carlos felt the urge to reach out and take his hand, but he resisted. Not here. Not yet.

His father descended from the chancel, and Carlos and Cecil followed him close behind, walking up the aisle of the chapel towards the doors that would lead them into the hallway. Carlos kept his head held high as he passed those standing in the pews, nodding slightly at familiar faces that smiled at him, and eyed those that seemed to send condemnations rather than congratulations.

Finally they entered into the hallway, and the congregation began to slowly file out behind them as they made their way towards the grand ballroom. Cecil fell into step beside him, their shoulders just barely touching, and Carlos swallowed against the blush he could feel creeping its way up his neck.

The King placed his hands on the old oak doors that led into the ballroom, and pushed, and the doors swung inwards to welcome them all into the grand ballroom. The entire room was dimly lit with more candles than Carlos could count, which casted a pleasant glow against the large stained glass windows with the setting sun giving its last light through the colored panes, casting dancing shadows into the far corners and creeping up onto the ceiling, and it gave Carlos a feeling akin to enchantment. A small orchestra began to play from their place at the far end of the room, a soft, lilting waltz that bubbled through Carlos like fine wine.

He felt a hand press against his arm, and he turned his head to find Cecil beaming at him.

“That went well.” He said warmly. Carlos smiled back at him, and nodded.

“I was not expecting it to go as smoothly and as quickly as it did,” he said. “But you’ll not find me complaining.”

Cecil chuckled. “I agree.”

“Would you like some wine?” Carlos asked, suddenly filled with nerves and an awkward nervousness that he could not quite explain. He gestured to one of the grand tables lined with food and wines along the wall.

“I believe I would, yes.” Cecil said. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Carlos raised his hand, and instantly a servant positioned by the table had two goblets in his hand. He was at his side almost immediately, handing the wine to Carlos.

“Is there anything else, your majesty?” The servant bowed.

“No, that will be all for now, thank you.” Carlos said, and the servant nodded in dismissal before he made his way back towards the table. Carlos handed one of the goblets to Cecil, who took it gladly, swirling the wine a bit before he took a tentative sip, nodding his approval.

“It would seem that this day has been quite the success.” Cecil said finally, gesturing around them as the final guests made their way into the ballroom and began to mill about amongst themselves, and Carlos felt a shiver run down his spine at the regality in Cecil’s demeanor.

Carlos nodded. “Indeed, it seems that it has been much better received than I previously anticipated.”

“Were you expecting a war to break out in the chapel, Prince Carlos?” Cecil’s eyes were sparkling with mischief.

Carlos chuckled. “No.” He said. “A skirmish or too, perhaps, but not a war.”

Cecil laughed heartily, and Carlos felt the familiar spark of affection scatter across his chest, and he was once again overcome with the urge to tell Cecil the words he had been trying to say all evening.

“Now, you were saying earlier that you had something to say to me?” Cecil said, almost as if he had read Carlos’s mind. He looked at Carlos with curious intrigue.

Carlos sipped at his own wine for a moment, humming in agreement, and smiled at Cecil.

“Well, er, yes.” He said, feeling much less awkward than before. He could do this. He could do this. “What I mean to say is, Cecil, I—”

He was interrupted by a polite tap to his left shoulder. He turned to find a young woman, about sixteen or so, with light brown skin and dark hair standing behind him. He recognized her as the Princess Trish, daughter of Queen Pamela of Pine Ridge, and she smiled timidly at him as she curtsied.

“Good evening, Prince Carlos.” She said softly.

Carlos smiled back at her. He had known Trish for several years now, since she had come of courting age, as her mother had been trying to press his father into agreeing to a union between the two of them ever since, so the two of them had spent varying degrees of time together, though, thankfully, only at formal events such as this one. Carlos liked Trish. She was just as disinterested in a union with him as he was with her, and they had always been honest about this fact with one another, and had over time developed somewhat of a friendship.

“The same to you, Princess Trish.” Carlos offered in return, bowing respectfully to her. He motioned to Cecil with his hand. “Have you met Prince Cecil of Noctis?”

Trish shook her head. She curtsied to the Noctis prince politely.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Cecil.” She said as she straightened up, blushing as she cast her eyes downward.

Cecil smiled kindly. “And you.” He extended.

Trish turned her attention back to Carlos. “My mother kindly suggested I socialize with you in the hopes that you will ask me to dance.” She said, and Carlos could hear the hint of annoyance laced with amusement in her voice. Trish was not overly fond of the idea of her mother trying to marry her off to any available prince, or fond of the idea of getting married in general, but Carlos knew that her mother was a persistent woman, and if Carlos did not ask Trish to dance, she would ask to ask her herself.

“Ah, as usual,” Carlos chuckled. He handed his goblet of wine to Cecil. “Could you hold this for me?”

Cecil nodded. “Of course. We will catch up later.”

Carlos gave him a single nod before he turned back to Trish, and bowed to her.

“Princess Trish, may I have this dance?” He asked.

Trish smiled and nodded in thanks. “Yes, please.”

Carlos took her hand in his own, and with a last cast over his shoulder at Cecil, led her out onto the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he could see several guests eyeing Cecil suspiciously, though a few approached him, eager to strike up a conversation with the Prince of Noctis, who, until that evening, had been much more elusive.

“He seems to be quite gentle natured.” Trish whispered as they began to waltz in tune with the music the orchestra began to play, noticing his glances in Cecil’s direction. “Not at all what I imagined.”

“He is,” Carlos said.

“You seem to be quite fond of him, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Trish pressed with a light smile. “Have you considered telling him of your feelings?”

Carlos looked at her, slightly stunned at her observational skills, before he laughed lightly, shaking his head.

“Is it truly that obvious?”

Trish hummed in affirmation. “Just the way you look at him, and he looks at you, provides me with all that I need to know.” She said. “I am not one for romance myself, but don’t think I don’t know it when I see it, Prince Carlos. As long as I have known you, I believe I would be able to see it when someone finally earned your affection. Some of us believed it would never happen.”

Carlos chuckled. “Sometimes I questioned it myself.” He admitted. “But you are correct when you say that I…harbor feelings for him.”

“Is that part of the reason behind this treaty?” Trish raised an eyebrow.

Carlos blushed. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” he said softly.

“I suspected as much as soon as I saw the two of you together.” Trish said. “If I may offer my opinion, I believe this treaty to be in good standing, Prince Carlos. It will no doubt prove to be beneficial, in several aspects, but it could very well be the defining factor in your reign as king one day. You helped to bring an end to the war with Noctis, a war that has been raging in varying degrees between your kingdoms for generations. Perhaps it has not always been so bloody, and perhaps it has not always been as war-like as it has in the past, namely when your brother was killed, but it has been a significant upheaval nonetheless, and you helped to end it. That is noble, Prince Carlos, and if you happen to be in love with the prince of the other half of the decision, who could speak against it? Would it have mattered if Prince Cecil was a princess, and you had fallen in love with her, and wished for the conflict to end so that you could be with her? I see no difference.”

“You are far wiser than you seem, Princess Trish.” Carlos teased his friend. “It will aid you well in life.”

Trish smiled. “I want to be the best ruler I possibly can for my kingdom one day, Prince Carlos.” She said. “And whether my mother likes it or not, I plan to do so without a spouse. I am good at forging allies, be assured. I trust that I have solidified an ally in you, and perhaps one day I would like to seek an attempt at one with Prince Cecil and Noctis as well.”

The song the orchestra was playing ended, and the two of them stepped apart, bowing and curtsying respectfully to one another.

“If I may,” Trish whispered, laying a hand on Carlos’s forearm. “Tell him how you feel. I assure you, he feels the same way about you.”

Carlos smiled. “Thank you, Trish.”

“My pleasure, Carlos.” Trish said. With a final sweet smile, she took her leave, and made her way towards a group of ladies standing in the far corner near the pastry table.

It was at this time another young woman approached him, somewhat shyly, and asked him for a dance. Carlos knew it would be impolite to refuse, so he nodded, and took her hands as another song started up from the orchestra.

It continued to proceed this way for several more songs, with at least four more women came forward to ask him to dance. Carlos accepted, politely, and played his part each time, dancing with the young women until the end of the song, when they would bow politely to one another before the young woman would take her leave, and another would step in to take her place.

Finally, after the fourth woman, Carlos politely excused himself from the floor, and made his way towards the back of the room, where a servant handed him a new goblet of wine. He sipped at it lightly, happy for the pleasant fuzziness it gave to his senses, happy for the distraction it gave him, if only for a moment.

He scanned the room, looking for Cecil’s purple tunic, and spotted him not far from where he had been before, speaking with the Duke of Vansten. Cecil must have sensed his gaze, because he turned his head in Carlos’s direction. Their eyes met, and Carlos felt his stomach flip, and a slight blush begin to trek along his neck. He saw Cecil nod to the Duke of Vansten, and excuse himself, before he began to make his way towards Carlos.

Cecil smiled warmly at him as he bowed respectfully. He straightened himself, and offered his hand to Carlos.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance, Prince Carlos?” He asked, and Carlos could see the way his eyes sparkled like champagne bubbles in the soft light of the ballroom.

Carlos smiled back as he took Cecil’s hand.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

\-----

 

"Of course this treaty with Noctis will, overall, prove to be beneficial," Queen Pamela went on, twirling her fan in the air to accentuate. "But there is not marriage to solidify the grants further. If your son and my daughter Trish were to marry, however, we could unite Pine Ridge and Vail together. Your trades would triple, now with Noctis on board, and your profits much more mounting than ever before!"

The King hummed as he sipped his wine, completely drowning out the Queen of Pine Ridge as she prattled on, for what seemed like the thousandth time that night alone, about arranging a marriage between her daughter, Princess Trish, and Carlos. He had never been overly fond of Queen Pamela; he had always found her a bit brash, a bit overbearing, and quite frankly, a bit annoying. Over the years he had gotten quite good at tuning her out, instead finding something else to focus his attention on, whilst giving the occasional nod or hum of agreement to allude to the façade that he was actively listening. Tonight his attention was on Prince Carlos as he danced at the far end of the ballroom with the Prince of Noctis, his hand on Cecil’s shoulder while his other arm was wrapped around him. It was a very open display, but the King could see that no one in the general audience seemed to notice, and, if they did, they did not seem to care. Surveying the area, the King could see that his son and Prince Cecil were not the only men dancing together; Hans and Luce Gutierrez were huddled quite close, Luce’s forehead pressed against Hans’ shoulder, as the taller man wrapped his arms around Luce’s shoulders, and a castle page and servant were swaying together to the music in the corner. It was hardly a spectacle within Vail for two men, or two women, to be seen together in such a way, and the King supposed, perhaps, it was not a surprise for the people that their prince was dancing with another prince instead of one of the several princesses and ladies of nobility scattered throughout the room.

“Your majesty?” He heard Queen Pamela say next to him, her voice pinched with annoyance. He turned his head to look at her, and she was frowning fiercely as her ice blue eyes bored into him like lightning splitting open the sky. “Have you not heard a word I have just spoken?”

The King shook his head. “My apologies, Madam Queen.” He said. “I’m afraid I perhaps allowed my attention to stray for a moment, but I assure you, I heard you as you spoke, and while I thank you for your diplomatic offer and diligence to the union of our lands," he said. "I think you will find that my son has already chosen a match."

"Oh!" Queen Pamela's eyes flooded with surprise. She peered around the room, no doubt searching for his son's dark green suit. “Much speculation has been thrown around as to when your son would finally settle down. Who _is_ the lucky woman?”

He nodded towards the ballroom floor.

"Not a woman," he said quietly.

Queen Pamela's eyes widened as she caught sight of Carlos spinning Cecil around, laughing as the other man fell back into step with him easily, his hand on Cecil's hip. She turned back to the King.

"You cannot possibly be serious!" She cried. "Another man?! And the _Prince of Noctis_ no less! I understand that a treaty of peace and alliance has been founded, but surely you could not possibly approve, what with the history your kingdoms possess! You cannot mean to tell me you plan to allow such an act of deviant behavior continue!"

The King watched as Cecil took the lead in the next dance, showing Carlos the way as they went along, clasping their hands together. As they spun, it was as plain to the King as it had been the few days before when he had seen them (unbeknownst to them both) kissing in the library, gently and quietly, and when he had seen his son cradling the Noctis prince close to his chest as he fell asleep the night before, that this was much more than a mere tryst. It had never been anything close to a tryst.

"I have not always been the father I want to be," he said slowly, his eyes never leaving the two men. "I have put duty before heart, and politics over pleasure, even simple ones. But I have grown weary of staunch tradition and restricted mindfulness. My children have grown, my daughter Amaris married to a good nobleman that loves her, and my grandchildren. My Javier never got the opportunity to fall in love before he was taken from us. Carlos should be able to decide for himself what he believes to be right, not what I believe he should believe to be right. He should not be forced into a loveless marriage to a woman he barely knows. Not when he has the opportunity to love someone, and be loved in return."

He looked on as Cecil caught Carlos off guard by dipping him; the King was impressed with his strength as he pulled Carlos back upright. His son was laughing; the King felt his heart swell slightly at the sight.

"He has chosen love over war with Noctis." The King went on. "He is much wiser than I could ever have imagined. I have been a fool, allowing this war to continue as it has, for no other reason than it has always raged. Not even I know what it was we fought for all those years. He went into this himself, and they rallied their agreements together. He handled the politics himself, with wisdom and poise that I did not know he possessed, just as will be necessarily when he ascends the throne one day." He smiled fondly as the song ended, and the two princes bowed to one another. "He will be a great king."

Queen Pamela rolled her eyes.

"A lovely sentiment, your majesty," she said, and the King could hear the sardonic tone in her voice as though it were venom dripping from fangs. "But surely you must see why it is that two _men_ cannot possibly fall in love.” The King’s eyes flicked to Hans and Luce Gutierrez in the corner. “What does _love_ have to do with the future prosperity of a kingdom?"

"Much more than you realize." The King warned, looking from the Gutierrezes back to his son. "A kingdom is nothing without a passionate king at its throne."

He turned and looked at Queen Pamela.

"I loved the mother of my children." He said, remembering his wife’s soft brown eyes and kind smile. "She made the weight I carry upon my shoulders as king easier to bear, the coldest nights warm. She was much more than just my wife: she was my best friend, my confidant, my partner in life. There can never be another after her. Tell me, Madame Queen, do you love your husband?"

"Certainly not!" Queen Pamela said, frowning fiercely. "He is as incompetent as he is incorrigible. I married him because it was my duty, nothing more, just as I expect my daughter to."

"Then I pity you, and the Princess Trish." The King said softly. "And I thank you for your offer, but I will be granting Prince Carlos the chance to choose for himself who it is that he will have at his side."

He nodded, and turned away from the Queen of Pine Ridge, and stalked out into the floor, making a beeline for his son.

Carlos had just settled his hands on Cecil's hips when the King came marching up next to them, looming over all of the guests surrounding them, who had, until that moment, been smiling and dancing alongside them both as though there were nothing strange about the fact that their prince and the prince of their enemy-turned-ally dancing together. Carlos pulled his hands away as though he had been burned, and the slightly hurt look on that crossed Cecil's face a split second before he realized who it was approaching was not lost to the King, and he was certain it wasn’t lost to Carlos, either.

"Father," Carlos greeting, bowing. He stepped in front of Cecil slightly, half-consciously, as though to shield him from an attack, his eyes holding a fearful edge to them that the King could only describe as animalistic. The King could hardly blame him, after the way he had acted towards the other man throughout the week.

The King nodded. "Greetings," he extended to his son. "I trust you have enjoyed the ball?"

"Yes, Father." Carlos nodded. “It has been quite the experience. One of your best.”

"That is good to hear. Now, if you'll excuse me," he reached out and grasped Cecil by the upper arm. He felt the Noctic prince go rigid as his fingers wrapped around his bicep. "I need to have a word with the Prince of Noctis. _Alone_."

Before his son could protest, he began to drag the other man across the ballroom floor. He heard his son protesting fervently, telling him to wait, to stop, but he ignored him. He knew that the revelries of the ball would keep his son occupied for a few minutes more, if he was lucky, especially now that he had been divested of his dancing partner, finally allowing others to cut in, an opportunity he doubted any young woman at the ball would pass up, despite the rather open display he and the prince the King now guided down the hall had been projecting.

Finally he emerged into the hallway, and continued to guide the younger man as he faltered alongside him, until they exited into the plush serenity of the garden. He released the Noctic prince, and Cecil stumbled as he did so, spinning around to face the King.

"I know what you're going to say, and I understand, but please, just let me say goodbye to Carlos!" The prince pleaded, his blue eyes wide, hands held out in surrender. "Then I'll go without resistance, leave Vail and not look back, just please, allow me the chance to say goodbye."

The King swallowed, and looked down at the prince, silencing him with a fierce glare. Despite the disdain he felt towards the other man, the King's heart constricted in his chest at the thought of his son's face, twisted with grief and loss, as it had been when his mother had died, at the very idea of Cecil departing from Carlos’s life. He couldn't bear the thought of putting him through that again.

"Shut your mouth and listen for once, Noctis." He growled softly. Cecil swallowed, biting on his bottom lip as he wrung his hands nervously. The King had witnessed enough interactions within the castle to know that to act as fidgety and meek as he did when in the King's presence was not Cecil's natural state. He looked at the faint line at Cecil's jugular, barely visible now, and remembered the dagger pressing against his skin, and his son's desperate undertone as he begged for the other man's life. The King felt a stab of regret, but forced it down.

"My son is in love with you." He said flatly. He saw Cecil blink with surprise, his face brightening excitedly for a single moment before it dissipated back into undulated fear. "I know my child, and I know love when I see it."

"I-I'm sorry," Cecil chewed his lip as he searched for the right words. "I never meant to cause anything. I never...I did not intend for..."

The King silenced him with a hand.

"Nevertheless, he is in love with you." He said. "No matter your intent, you have completely upended the careful planning that has been laid out since the moment of my son's birth. It was intended that he marry a good woman of noble lineage, and produce an heir to the throne of which he is to inherit. It was never intended that it be _you_ that he fell for. It was absolutely intended that he would one day kill you, take your lands for his own. It was intended you fall _to_ _him_ , not he _for you_."

"I'm sorry." Cecil said again, averting his gaze. “I swear, I never intended for this to happen.”

The King shook his head.

"As I see it," he said. "There's only one thing left to do to correct this problem. A simple apology will not suffice."

Cecil’s eyes flicked back to him, and he swallowed, hard, and took a deep breath.

“I know what you’re going to do. I have suspected as much.” He said softly.

The King raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He asked. “And what is it that I intend to do with you, if you are so certain you know of my plans?”

Cecil looked at the ground before his eyes met the King again. “Banish me back to Noctis,” he said, his voice wavering. “Now that the treaty has been signed, there’s no reason for me to stay in Vail any longer. The allegiance has been formed, and now you wish me gone. The treaty agreement does not dictate that I must stay.” He swallowed. “And I understand. Truly, I do. But please, allow me to say goodbye to Carlos, just one last time, even if it is only for a minute. Then I will leave, without complications, I swear it.”

The King scoffed.

“That is not quite what I had in mind, Noctis.” He said lowly.

Cecil sucked in a breath, and the King saw him shudder as something akin to comprehension passed over his face, his blue eyes wide. He wrung his hands behind his back; the other man was shaking, and the King forced the fulsome flare it sent through his being away with the image of Carlos, desperately reaching for the Noctis prince as he had his mother in the burning stable. His heart and gut twisted at the thought.

“Then…what _is_ it that you intend to do, your majesty?” Cecil asked softly.

“What I must.” The King answered simply. “To protect my kingdom. And my son.”

The King took the dagger from the sheath at his belt. He examined it carefully, sliding the pad of his thumb along the edge, feeling the sharp blade slice harmlessly through his skin. He saw Cecil's breath quicken and he was trembling almost violently as he lowered himself to the ground, on his knees, in front of the King in surrender.

"I understand. Do as you must." Cecil said quietly, looking at the ground. "Just...could you tell Carlos that I'm sorry? That I...I do care for him? And don't...don't let him see. After. Please. That's all I ask."

The King swallowed, slowly, as another new, dull ache spread through his chest. Perhaps this man truly was as altruistic as Carlos made him out to be; after all, his subsequent - though unnecessary - last request was not to beg for his life, to ask for mercy, but that Carlos be spared the pain of having to bear witness to his body, divested of life upon the garden grass, and that Carlos knew that he had cared for him. Truly that - his last thoughts being of Carlos, and not of himself - deemed him worthy of his son’s heart, did it not?

Carlos had deemed him worthy. And the King was beginning to see why.

"I'm...I am prepared." Cecil said quietly, breaking the King’s chain of thought. "F-For whatever it is you must do. I-I am ready. Just don’t let Carlos see. Please, just let…please don’t make him see."

 _Don’t make him see, as he saw his mother._ The King felt his gut twist with realization as Cecil pushed his weight back into his knees, his hands against the ground, his face downcast as he exposed his neck in the pose that was known as the traditional soldier’s execution, awaiting the final blow against him.

The King quirked an eyebrow, trying not to find a single shred of amusement in the prince's misinterpretation of his intent as his gut twisted further, and cleared his throat, but Cecil did not look up.

He carefully reached out with the hand not holding the dagger and lifted the boy's chin, leaning in closer to the other man so that they were level. Cecil's eyes were shining with terrified tears, his hands clutching at the grass. He was still shaking.

"You take care of my son, Noctis." The King growled slowly, quietly. "He has fallen in love with you, and don't think me a fool and believe I don't know that you love him as well."

Cecil blinked, and opened his mouth to speak, but the King silenced him by tightening his hold on his chin.

"I am still not convinced you are the logical choice for my son," he said. "But Carlos sees something in you that perhaps I have overlooked. You make him happier than I have seen him since he was a teenager, since his mother died, and despite my every instinct telling me to kill you right now, I cannot bear the thought of putting him through such agony again. If it’s you he's chosen, I have little choice but to allow him to do so. I can make my plans, I can try to dissuade him from the path he has chosen, I can force him into an arranged marriage with a woman he barely knows, but his heart will always be yours, he will always choose you, and there is nothing that I can do or say that will stop him, in the end. So I'm giving you permission to court my son, despite it going against every tradition in this land, and against all semblance of order, but you'd best take care of him."

He used the dagger to anoint Cecil’s shoulders, and then the top of his head carefully before he brought it behind his back. He grasped Cecil’s chin a bit tighter as he looked him dead in the eye, his gaze as fierce as he could muster.

"If you don't, it will be me you'll answer to."

Cecil blinked, tears falling down his face, his eyes widening as he registered just what it was the King was implying, and all at once, despite the coils of residual, internalized distrust and apprehension, the King knew he had made the right choice, and that his son would never want for anything as long as he was in the care of this man, as long as he had him at his side.

For the King, who was, in that moment, first and foremost a father, that would be enough.

 

\-----

 

Carlos’s heart pounded in his chest, constricting, thudding, beating so hard against his ribcage he was almost certain it would burst as he ran as fast as he could down the hallway he hoped his father had taken, his sword slapping at his hip painfully, but he ignored it. The only thing that mattered in that moment was finding his father, getting to Cecil, stopping whatever it was that his father had planned for the other prince. The memory of his nightmare several nights before was fresh on the edge of his mind, and it only fueled his determination to get there in time further.

He rounded the corner, and dashed in the direction of the garden. His lungs burned, and it was hard to breathe as he frantically charged into the plush greenery, stopping for a moment to glance around. As he looked to his right, he saw his father, his robes billowing and imposing as he loomed over the kneeling form of Cecil in the grass at his feet. He held Cecil’s chin in his hand, and a knife was positioned behind his back; from where he stood, Carlos could see the tears coursing down Cecil’s face. Carlos felt his heart stop for a single, sickening second, and he didn’t think twice as he drew his sword and rushed forward, planting his hand in the middle of the King’s chest and pushing him away from Cecil roughly. He planted himself in front of the Noctis prince, his sword held out in a defensive pose.

He didn’t care what it took; he would rather die than allow his father to harm Cecil again. He didn’t care if drawing his sword on the king, no matter if he was his father or not, was considered an act of treason, punishable only by death; he wouldn’t allow harm to befall the man he wasn’t sure he could live without. He would stand there, take the punishment, allow his father to do with him as he wished, just so long as he didn’t hurt Cecil.

"Stop!" He cried, his voice fierce with determination. "I'll protect him with my dying breath!"

The King glowered at him, and for a moment, Carlos was scared that he would have guards called to drag him away, just as they had in his nightmare, and force him to watch as he killed Cecil right there on the grass of the garden. Instead, his father stood his ground, and sheathed his dagger.

"Put your sword down, boy," the King warned. "Before it causes you more trouble."

Cecil reached out and tugged on Carlos's jacket. Carlos reached out a hand to help the other man stand before he turned back to his father, who glared at the sword in his hands, his face murderously furious.

"I mean it!" Carlos raised his voice. "You said that his life is mine, and I will defend it! You’ll not harm him!"

"Carlos, it’s okay!" Cecil reached out and placed a hand on each of Carlos’s wrists, lowering his arms. "He's not going to harm me."

Carlos looked at Cecil, who was smiling gently, and then back at his father, stoic as always. After a moment’s hesitation, he lowered the sword, sheathing it, but kept a hand on the hilt, just in case the need arose for him to draw it again.

"What's going on?" He dared.

"I wished to speak with him, and I did." The King said. "We have come to a conclusion, and thus, the conversation is over."

"Then why was he on the ground, with a dagger before him?" Carlos demanded. "Why did it appear as though you were about to use your dagger against him?!"

"That was me," Cecil explained. "I-I believed he was going to banish me, or perhaps, execute me...but I was mistaken. His dagger was being retracted, not hidden. He was using it in anointment, not against me."

Carlos looked back at his father, who gave him a single, curt nod.

"I believe I made it clear that he is to care for you." The King said. "And if he does not, it shall become my business."

"What are you talking about?" Carlos’s heart was still hammering in his chest, but now, it was beating even harder, and for an entirely different reason.

Was he truly hearing what he thought he was hearing? Was his father truly implying all that Carlos imagined he was?

Cecil cleared his throat, and Carlos turned his head to look at him. Cecil looked at the King, who nodded, and he reached out and took Carlos's hands in both of his. It felt good to have the Noctis prince’s palm against his again, despite his being clammy with nervous sweat. Cecil looked at their hands for a moment, rubbing his thumb across Carlos’s knuckles for a moment before he let out a breath, and looked back at the Vailian prince, almost sheepishly. Almost.

"Peace has been made between our lands," Cecil began, smoothly, regality practically dripping from each word. "The treaty has been signed, at least here in Vail, and it is to be signed again in Noctis in due time, and a new era of prosperity can begin."

He suddenly blushed, avoiding Carlos’s gaze, and cleared his throat.

"Carlos, it isn't...it doesn't take...what I mean to say is..." He stammered, his ears ringing red with embarrassment. Carlos had never heard him so much as stutter before now, had never heard him stumble over words before, and he was beginning to grow worried. Cecil sighed, and looked back at the Vailian prince, squeezing his hands. "I-I have fallen hard for you, Carlos. This last week has only solidified what I knew to be true when I met you back in Coronis. You have completely won over my heart, and I was wondering..."

Cecil paused, taking a deep breath, before he continued, tightening his grip on the Vailian prince’s hands in his own. Carlos felt his heart rate pick up again at the confession of Cecil’s feelings for him – Cecil’s _returned_ feelings for him – and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to absolutely _whoop_ with joy, no matter how unbecoming of a future king it was, to tell him everything he had been holding back, every word bitten down on his tongue this past week.

But he didn’t. Instead, he waited patiently for Cecil to continue, his breath bated.

"I was wondering if you'd allow me the honor of courting you?" Cecil finished quietly. His eyes flicked upwards, and he chewed on his bottom lip, but Carlos could see the expectant smile there.  

Carlos blinked, mouth falling open in surprise. He felt like a fish, gaping and stuttering for the start of words. He looked back at the King, who gave him a nod, then back at Cecil, whose big blue eyes, brimmed with hope, were beginning to cloud with the glimmer of heartbreaking doubt. And, because he couldn't find the words to express the emotions muddling his brain, the pure and unbridled adulation building inside of him, instead he did the only thing he could to dispel that doubt: momentarily forgetting his father’s presence, he reached out and took Cecil's face in his hands, and pressed his lips to his.

He felt Cecil stiffen slightly in surprise, but after a moment, he relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Carlos's neck, dipping his fingers into Carlos's curls. They were no sounds made, no warring of tongues, no heated pants, no wandering hands; just the calm serenity of passion as it became known, passing between them, and Carlos was more than pleased to stay like this for the rest of eternity, lost to everything else but _Cecil._ After a moment, he pulled away and set his forehead against Cecil's, closing his eyes and smiling.

"Is that a yes, then?" Cecil asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Carlos laughed and kissed him again, still unable to correlate any sort of response, his thumb caressing the line of Cecil's chin, the skin smooth and soft, and he pulled away to gaze at the other man's face. His blue eyes were shining, as bright as the sky, and the affection that had been building at a steady crescendo finally reach its height, and Carlos knew, oh how he knew, just as he had thought earlier that very evening, that he was in love with this man. Absolutely, completely in love with him.

They stood there in silence for several more minutes, lost in each other’s gaze, in the press of Carlos’s hand against Cecil’s cheek, in the heat of their bodies against one another. Nothing else mattered but the two of them. It was as if the entire world had melted around them, leaving them both lost, tossed about at sea in a storm, with only each other to cling to. But Carlos was certain that neither he, nor Cecil, cared.

"We should probably get back to the ball, yes?" Cecil asked after a minute, looking over Carlos’s shoulder back towards the castle. "It's nearing its end, I'd think."

Carlos nodded, and looked back towards his father, but found that the King was nowhere in sight; Carlos suspected he had retreated back to the ball, leaving the two princes alone with their privacy. He reminded himself to thank him later, as he took Cecil's hand firmly in his own.

It wasn’t a complete acceptance of his love for the Noctis prince. But it was a start.

Carlos smiled as he brushed back a strand of Cecil’s short blond hair behind his ear. “I believe, yes, we should be missed if we remain out here any longer.” He agreed. He released Cecil’s hand, and offered his arm instead. “Would you allow me to escort you back, Prince Cecil? And perhaps delight me in another dance?”

Cecil grinned, his entire face consumed with joy. He took Carlos’s proffered arm, and nodded.

“Indeed, Prince Carlos.” He said. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it, Trish Hidge (Princess Trish) is aromantic! Happy Aromantic Awareness Week!!!! :) 
> 
> The next chapter is the last one, and it is already 100% written, but I want to take a few days to polish it up before I post it. So look for it within the next week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princes have some confessions to make, and Carlos's bed seems like as good a place as any to discuss them. Preferably naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, one spring break spent freezing to death (Michigan winters will make you reconsider your definition of "cold" very quickly, I assure you), working a few extra shifts for some extra cash (which also included having a customer throw lunch meat at me over the counter because I didn't slice it to his liking AND being verbally abused at the same time), one pain in the ass art project, a grumpy computer virus (thank you, my lovely techie boyfriend, for being amazing and allowing me to compensate you in cuddles) and 2 hours of new Night Vale material later, I present to you the very last chapter!
> 
> I can hardly believe that this is the very last chapter! I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I love writing some steamy smut, but I enjoy writing sweet, loving sex even more. So. Yeah. There's that. :) Either way, it really has been a wild ride, and I seriously cannot thank each and every one of you enough. It's just been...wow, I've enjoyed this roller coaster so freaking much! Thank you all! 
> 
> CHAPTER SONGS: "It Was Always You" by Maroon 5, "Uma Thurman" by Fall Out Boy, and "Come With Me Now" by the Kongos (that last one was absolutely not intended to be punny, but, hey, I am not going to deny it's a pun here)

The ball lasted several more hours, during which several kisses were stolen, goblets of wine were drunk, and dances were had. In the end, the two managed to sneak away from the slowly thinning crowd and made their way back towards Carlos’s bedroom.

Carlos tumbled into his bed, Cecil on top of him, kissing him senseless, with Carlos's tongue in his mouth, nipping at his lower lip as he managed to run a hand up Cecil's tunic and across the plains of his back, feeling Cecil shiver with anticipation as he moaned. It felt wonderful to have the other man pressed this close against him, where he could feel his heartbeat pounding in tandem with his own. 

Carlos broke apart to trail sloppy kisses across Cecil's cheek to just behind his ear, where he had found Cecil to be particularly sensitive. Cecil arched against him, aligning their pelvises as he did so, a hand coming up to grasp at Carlos's hair.

"This somehow seems familiar," Carlos whispered, nuzzling his nose into Cecil's temple as Cecil sucked appreciatively at his neck.

"Mmm." Cecil agreed, pulling away to look down at Carlos, his eyes filled with want. "I seem to remember the last time we snuck off during a ball, we were in a library on cushions, not on a bed."

"And I believe it was much more illicit," Carlos added, still running a hand along Cecil's sides. "And there was much less clothing."

He tugged at Cecil's tunic, pulling it up and over his head. He balled it up carelessly and tossed it to the ground, as Cecil began working at the buttons of Carlos's waistcoat, his deft fingers almost fumbling in his haste, and slipped the waistcoat and finally the white shirt underneath from Carlos's shoulders.

" _Much_ less clothing," Cecil purred in agreement, that voice rich with all the things he didn't say as he thrust his hips against Carlos once.

Carlos wound an arm around Cecil and pulled him against him, rolling so that they had flipped, with Carlos looming over Cecil, who looked up at him in surprise.

"I think it's my turn." Carlos whispered against the skin of Cecil's neck, nipping lightly, smiling slightly as Cecil's breath hitched and he raised against him in just the right way. He smoothed a palm against Cecil's pectorals, teasing a nipple between his fingers. Cecil moaned, deeply.

"I - _ohh_ \- had to be much quieter before." Cecil gasped out as Carlos lowered his head to flick his tongue against the bud, lightly. Cecil threw his head back against the pillows, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

"True." Carlos agreed. He kissed Cecil's lips gently. "But I don't think that's going to be much of a stipulation anymore."

"Oh?" Cecil raised an eyebrow.

"I want to hear you." Carlos kissed Cecil's sternum, just above his tattoo, loving the feeling of the downy blond hair on Cecil's chest as he caressed his palm against it. "Every sound, every moan. I want to hear you crying out my name as you fall apart."

“And what if s-someone hears?”

He glanced up through the strands of hair that fell in his face and saw Cecil swallow thickly.

“Then let them hear.” He said with another light kiss against Cecil’s skin. “Let them know you’re _mine._ ”

He ran the tip of his tongue against Cecil's skin again, and the _sounds_ that Cecil made should have been illegal, and if they had been, Carlos would have been glad to have been convicted of the crime of being the one to cause them. Carlos tugged at the strings to Cecil's furry pants - a garment he had never expected to find so attractive - until they came lose, and he slipped a hand inside to roll his hand gently over the hard member. Cecil mewled in pleasure, writhing against Carlos so tantalizingly, the drag of skin on skin so intoxicating Carlos wondered, vaguely, if it were possible to get drunk purely on Cecil, on that voice and those eyes and the smell of him...

Long fingers gently laced into the hair at the back of his head, caressing gently as Carlos continued to give every bit of exposed skin attention.

" _Mmmm,_ " Cecil groaned. "You know you never did - _ah_ \- answer my question."

"What question?" Carlos asked, not looking up as he watched Cecil's breath hitch as he pressed the barest tip of his tongue to the raised, sensitive flesh of Cecil’s left nipple. He slipped his hand between their bodies, slowly dragging his fingers across the bare skin of Cecil’s abdomen.

"If you'll _ahh_ -llow me to c-court you." Cecil gasped, clutching at Carlos's curls when he slowly wrapped a hand around Cecil's shaft.

Carlos didn't answer, instead opting to smooth a thumb over the head of Cecil's cock as he pumped him once, slowly, from base to tip, making Cecil cry out and arch against his hand, desperate for more as Carlos caught his mouth with his, letting the moans settle against his tongue as he tangled it with Cecil's. Cecil tasted _amazing_ ; of wine and chocolate and like autumn rain.

Cecil moaned against his mouth, parting his lips, letting Carlos taste him as Carlos's teeth scrapped his.

Carlos momentarily let go of Cecil's cock, fumbling down off the side of the bed for a moment, before he produced the (now a little more empty than before) bottle of olive oil that Cecil had left there that first night in Vail. He dabbled a few drops into his fingers, and stole around Cecil's body to tease at his entrance.

"Okay?" He asked.

Cecil nodded. "Yes, please! Yes!"

Carlos slowly dipped a finger inside Cecil, and Cecil practically howled as he gently probed further, adding a second finger as he did, scissoring them, his fingertips brushing the walls inside of Cecil. Cecil moaned, his back arching, and he whined deep in his throat.

"Shhh, relax," Carlos cooed softly, kissing the dip of Cecil's shoulder. "I've got you."

Cecil's hands grasped at his shoulders tightly, one leg wrapping around his waist, pressing him closer.  Carlos very gently pressed another finger inside him, and Cecil moaned, long and deep.

"P-Please." He groaned. "Please, Carlos."

Carlos gently removed his fingers from Cecil, and sat back on his knees as he quickly undid the laces of his own trousers and kicked them off. He tugged at Cecil's furry pants, pulling them off with a single yank, completely exposing the smooth, pale skin beneath, and his erect cock, flushed pink and dripping pre-come. Carlos's breath caught in his throat as he stretched himself over Cecil, nudging his legs apart as he knelt between them.

"Gorgeous." He breathed as he kissed the symbol over Cecil's heart. "Cecil. Is this okay?"

Cecil nodded. "Yes." He said. "Please, Carlos, I want you to."

Carlos kissed him once more before he slicked himself up with more of the olive oil, making sure to dip another finger into Cecil one last time before he prodded at Cecil's entrance, and gently, oh so gently, eased himself inside. Cecil threw his head back, a hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out.

"No." Carlos said softly as he bent over Cecil carefully. He removed Cecil's hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles as he wiggled his hips, aligning himself within Cecil, watching as the other man gasped and whimpered. "No, I want to hear you. Don’t repress yourself."

Cecil gave a strangled moan that sounded more like a sob than anything, his hands once again finding Carlos's shoulders. Carlos pulled himself out of Cecil slowly, before he pressed back into him, watching as Cecil arched up to meet him, his legs wrapping around Carlos's waist, heels digging into his back. He thrust again, grunting as he did so, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Cecil's mouth as he began to set up a tempo for them both, reveling in the moans that he drew from Cecil as he found the sweet spot inside him. Sparks of pleasure began to streak through his body as he ground their hips together once, Cecil's dick brushing against his abdomen.

He lowered his mouth to behind Cecil's ear, where he nipped and lapped with his tongue at the sensitive skin there, and whispered sweet nothings to Cecil as he did so.

"Cecil," he said, surprised at how low and husky his own voice sounded. "Cecil, _oh god, Cecil_ , you feel so good. You are good. You’re wonderful."

"Y-You too." Cecil said breathlessly, brushing a curl behind Carlos’s ear. "I m-missed this. You, like this."

Carlos snapped his hips forward, watching as Cecil gasped silently. Cecil opened his blue eyes, meeting Carlos's brown, and he felt his heart flip in his chest as the pure adoration that passed between the two of them.

"D-Did you mean it?" Cecil gasped as Carlos thrust again, his fingernails digging pleasantly into Carlos's shoulders. "When you said - _yes ahh!_ \- that you'd protect m-me?"

"Yes," Carlos garbled, sucking in a breath as he stilled for a moment. He leant his forehead against Cecil's, his eyes closed as he let his breath even out, supporting himself on his forearms next to Cecil's neck.  "Yes! Protect you, die for you, keep you, need you, love you! _Love_ you, Cecil, _god_..." His own back arched as Cecil moaned resonantly deep as Carlos thrusted shallowly and hit that particular spot inside him at just the right angle. " _Love_ you." He gasped out.

He opened his eyes to find Cecil staring up into them, reverently, astonishingly beautiful as he pulled Carlos's head back down for a fierce, hard kiss. He gasped again as they broke apart, Carlos still driving them both so slowly towards insanity with the canting of his hips, and he slipped a hand downwards, grasping Cecil's cock in his hand again, slowly pumping him, loving the way Cecil trembled beneath him as he did so.

"Love _you_." Cecil managed, Carlos bending his head to suck another bruise to his neck, giving a particularly hard thrust. "I h-have loved you - _oh gods_ \- since I f-first laid eyes on you - _mmm_ \- in that hallway."

Carlos pulled away from his neck, and caught Cecil's swollen lips with his, still thrusting readily into him, rolling their hips together, the skin of their bellies brushing. He removed his hand from Cecil's cock, instead allowing it to brush against Carlos's pelvis, and cupped Cecil's face, rubbing a thumb across his cheekbone.

"You," he said, breathlessly. "Are beautiful. Amazing. S-So much more than I could have dreamed. _My_ Cecil.”

He lowered his hand from Cecil's face, and once again began to stroke Cecil in time with his thrusts. Cecil choked as he curved against him, completely gone with pleasure, and by the way he was clenching at both the sheets and Carlos's hair, his toes curling, Carlos knew he was close.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to that ledge, to that release. He buried himself deep inside of the other man, allowing himself to just sit there for a moment, looking at the wonderful man beneath him, watching Cecil's chest rise and fall as he gasped for air, panting, the hand not in Carlos's hair sliding up the mattress to slip his palm against Carlos's, their fingers twining. Cecil’s face like this was something Carlos wanted to remember for the rest of his life, his blue eyes wide and blown with ecstasy, watching Carlos’s every move, his mouth open slightly, the breath escaping his lips thick and heavy; it was the very representation of pleasure, of adoration, and Carlos felt himself fall even deeper in love with the Noctis prince in that moment.

Carlos gently pressed a kiss to Cecil's collarbone, next to one of the bruises he had sucked there. He still pumped at Cecil's hard member as Cecil mewled and gasped, that deep voice cracked in all the right places.

"Carlos," he gasped. "C-Could you move? P-Please, I'm c-close..."

Carlos slowly withdrew and so slowly thrust back in, still mouthing at Cecil's collarbone. He slowed the ministrations of his hand to match the new tempo, and Cecil moaned.

"Like this?"

"Hnng," Cecil managed, squeezing his hand. " _Carlos_."

Carlos pulled out almost completely, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of Cecil before he thrust in, a bit harder than intended, hitting that spot inside of Cecil in just a way that the Noctis prince gasped, his fingers twisting against Carlos's scalp. It felt _amazing_ , Cecil pulling his hair like that, driving him even closer to climax.

"Cecil," he panted. "Cecil, _Cecil_..."

"I'm close." Cecil choked out, moaning around the words. "I'm close, Carlos, don't stop!"

Carlos once again increased the strength and speed of his thrusts, watching as Cecil came completely unraveled beneath him, moaning, gasping, clenching, his back arching so beautifully off the mattress, tightening, his eyes screwed closed tightly. He was absolutely stunning.

" _Carlos!_ " Cecil very nearly _screamed_ , and Carlos bit back a whine of his own at how fundamentally arousing it was. He came, tightening so beautifully around Carlos as he did so, that it only took another single thrust for Carlos to come too, deep inside the other man.

" _Cecil!_ " he gasped, louder than he thought possible. The fingers of the hand not holding Cecil’s pressed against the muscles of Cecil’s hip, pressing red marks into the skin.

He collapsed against the other prince, who unhooked his ankles from behind Carlos's back and wrapped his arms around him, his hand carding through Carlos's sweat soaked curls lovingly. He pressed a kiss to Carlos’s forehead, and Carlos smiled widely and pressed a kiss to the tattoo over his heart.

"So." Cecil said after he caught his breath; Carlos nuzzled at his sternum. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Hmmm," Carlos said sleepily. "You're right."

He propped himself up, looking down at the prince.

"Prince Cecil of Noctis," he said. "If the passionate lovemaking we just experienced together did not say it loud enough, I would be honored to court you."

Cecil grinned and kissed Carlos again.

"Oh,” he breathed as they pulled apart. “That would be…that would be neat!”

He flushed, embarrassed, and Carlos couldn’t help but laugh. Cecil looked up at him, returning his smile as his fingertips brushed against Carlos’s brow.

"I love you." Cecil whispered.

Carlos ran his hand through Cecil's soft, sweaty blond hair before he wound an arm around the Noctic prince, pulling him close. He caught the hand touching his forehead, and kissed each fingertip, and smiled at the other man beside him.

"I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE shoutout to Mixxy for all her support, even when she's across the world in Europe at the moment, and thus communication is about 6 or so hours out of sync. I couldn't have done this story without her helping me bounce ideas around at 3 AM, and reading over my smut. I appreciate it, smuddy. <3 <3 
> 
> Lastly, thank you all for everything! This was wonderful, a learning experience, and I really enjoyed embarking on this journey with all of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 
> 
> Shalom :) <3 <3 <3 
> 
> (PS - Mixxy is planning to write the 3rd part of this series, so look for that, though with her being in Europe, I'm not sure when that will be...but look for it someday nonetheless! I know I certainly plan to continue!)


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